


the space between

by Windmire



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, you can see where this is going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-10-13 14:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10515291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windmire/pseuds/Windmire
Summary: Talia arches an eyebrow at him, and he can't tell whether that means she expected the question or not. "Lady Shiva is who you will train with next. I'm sure what she can teach will be most invaluable."Jason never gets around to meeting allthreeof the women who could have been his birth mother. After finding Sheila second, the third hadn't mattered anymore. Until Talia tells him just who his next teacher will be.Begins near the end of the Lost Days era and goes from there.





	1. the hole in my head

**Author's Note:**

> This has definitely been done before. But, hey, I wanted to give it a try. Consider this sort of a prologue.
> 
> ps. There are not so great relationships with parental figures in this fic, if you'd rather not read that kind of thing.

"Lady Shiva."

Jason looks up from the newest batch of pictures scattered across the table, frowning in confusion. "What?"

Talia arches an eyebrow at him, and he can't tell whether that means she expected the question or not. "She is who you will train with next. I'm sure what she can teach will be most invaluable." She tilts her head, almost in question. "You do know who she is, don't you?"

"Yeah," he breathes out, looking back down at the scratched surface of the table. He doesn't say anything else.

The truth is he can't really focus on much of anything beyond those pictures, beyond the face staring back at him in _his_ colors, with _his_ name. Even as he feels his gorge rise at just the fucking thought, just the fucking idea. It's not even the first time he's seen pictures of the damn kid anymore. But he can't help the same damn reaction every damn time.

But, oh, he knows who Shiva is. He remembers: a woman he's never met, but has certainly read and heard enough about.

His dad knew her. Somehow, he doesn't know how--not like his dad ever bothered to explain anything, about much of anything, really. Not like Jason didn't have to piece together the most tenuous of clues just to even realize they ever met, just to almost have an idea, just to almost think she _might_ have been his birth mother and track her down.

Not that it mattered, in the end. He found _her_ before he ever found Shiva. Then there'd been no use in wondering anymore.

There'd been no use in anything for a while there.

He tears his eyes away from the table and its pictures, before he fucking hurls, and finds Talia's carefully controlled expression again.

Does Talia know, he wonders, what he once suspected?

Did Talia, he wonders, talk to Shiva about it at some point, maybe between now and the last teacher's death?

Or did Ra's mention it to her instead?

The truth is, it wouldn't surprise him if she does know, if it's precisely the reason she wants him to train with Shiva. Some twisted form of irony or humor, just the kind of thing she'd love.

The lost little boy has lost his father figure for good (has been _replaced_ by him like he meant fucking nothing). Maybe he'll like spending time with the woman he once almost fooled himself into thinking could be his mother. Maybe. Just maybe.

Or, he thinks, with a bitter twist of a smile, maybe he should look to the simplest explanation. She might just be looking for another teacher Jason can't kill so easily.

He has been going through them pretty damn fast. And he stands by the reasoning behind every single kill.

"Then you will have no trouble training with her, will you?" Talia goes on then, in the exact same tone as before. Nothing about it betrays a hint of what she might be thinking.

"Nope."

"Very well then. I think you'll quite enjoy training with this one."

And, with that charming cryptic bit, that's that. Just like every other time, there's no fanfare, no lingering. Abruptly, he's got himself a new teacher, a new destination, and she straightens up further in her seat, catching their waiter's eye.

That's the end of that.

-

Except, as it turns out, Talia never tells him _where_ he'll be training with Shiva, or where he'll be living for the time being at that.

Half a week later, she just flashes him a sardonic smile as she dumps him and his bag in one of the League's boats, with more of the creepy silent dudes that have carted him from teacher to teacher a few times. The few she trusts.

They don't enlighten him either.

Nah, that'd just be too fucking easy.

They don't so much as talk to him, don't even acknowledge him beyond the occasional unreadable looks. But fine. Fucking fine, whatever. It's not like he's not used to being treated like an afterthought (though he knows he is most certainly not, in this case). Fucking whatever. He's had time to figure out how this operation works.

It just makes it easier to work, when no one from the League's trying to distract him. Their _looks_ are fucking nothing anyway. They've got nothing on what he used to get back in the cave.

And in any case, Jason's not a, well... _detective_ for nothing and he'll be damned if he doesn't at least try to get an idea of where he's going.

So he spends his days on the ship in near silence, with the occasional half-meant quip at whoever happens to be closest (or at himself sometimes) and he spends a lot of time out on the deck trying to trace their route, or at least get an idea of just what his escorts are looking for. 

He doesn't try to eavesdrop anymore. They always seem to know just when to clam up.

In the end, what he gathers during their short days traveling is this: it's the middle of winter and it's just as fucking cold where they're going as where they came from, it's too cloudy to see the stars, they don't stop on solid ground anywhere along the way, and they're taking some winding route north to... somewhere. Somewhere fucking cold.

He still can't tell where.

It's night and pitch black when they finally arrive at who knows where, the wind cold enough to make Jason's teeth chatter and biting enough he might as well not be wearing a coat at all. His escorts, the bastards, look entirely unaffected.

Fuck 'em.

Waiting at the docks is a lone hooded figure, standing tall and still. Even with their hood on, Jason could swear he can feel their eyes on him, sharp and assessing, and that's when he realizes. This has to be Lady Shiva.

A shiver goes down his spine, over the biting cold.

There's no conversation. His escorts are as silent as ever as they lead him to Shiva, and only stop long enough for one of them to trade nods with her, before they're leaving the same way they came.

All in all, it's pretty damn underwhelming.

The miserable fucking hike she leads him on is decidedly _not_ though.

By his count, they walk for an hour and a half, which would be fine, if not for the _cold_. Not even the coldest night out in the streets of Gotham was ever this bad and, frankly, he kind of resents it a little already. She doesn't say a word through it all either, doesn't even lower her hood, just gestures for him to follow and doesn't look back a single time, as if trusting him to stay behind her. Or knowing it's in his best interest, if he doesn't want to freeze to death out here.

Whatever.

At the end of the hike, they're at a cottage up a low incline, small and wooden, like something out of _the_ most cliché horror movie.

Great. Talia sent him to be murdered by someone who usually seeks out the people she's going to kill. This is gonna be her easiest fucking kill yet, he just knows it.

Still, he grits his teeth and follows her the last few yards to the door.

Once inside, Shiva shrugs her hood off and Jason gets his first real look at her. Dark eyes, dark hair, and it's a little longer, but otherwise she looks exactly as she did in the photo she saw in the Batcave's computer a few years ago. And that's. A little underwhelming, too. 

He's not sure what exactly he was expecting.

Still, he finds his eyes drawn to her face, analyzing every single feature. And he tries not to, really, he does, but he catches himself silently comparing their features anyway, trying to find himself in the lines of her face, in her raised eyebrows and the quirk of her lips. It might just be wishful thinking, but...

Before he can really find anything, before he can really process anything or even finish that thought, he looks away, a sudden pang in his chest.

_Catherine._

He tries not to think about Catherine, usually. It's still raw, after all these years, like poking at an open wound (as much as part of him keeps telling him he should be over it by now, it's been _years_ ) and this... It feels like it should be a betrayal to her memory, to try to find... He doesn't know. He doesn't know what he's looking for. He didn't even have time to think about Catherine when he met _her_ either, when he was frantically trying to find something in her, too, he just.

He doesn't know.

"Come then, Jason. It's late, I'll show you to your room," Shiva says, the first words she ever directs at him, and turns, toward a staircase tucked away in the corner.

Jason's rooted to the spot for a moment, staring after her.

Then he shakes his head, snapping himself out of it, hikes his bag up on his shoulder, and jogs after her.

Whatever. He's got no reason to be surprised by hearing his name from her. It isn't anything. They _aren't_ anything, just teacher and student. _His_ mother is long dead, _Shiva_ is his teacher.

Nothing more.

-

Jason doesn't get any time to settle in.

He feels like he's barely fallen asleep, when Shiva's practically hauling him off his bed and, with a few curt words, has him stumbling down the stairs behind her. He catches a glimpse of one of the windows on the way, somewhere between the staircase and the door in what looks like a kitchen, and he sees the sun isn't even out yet. _If_ it even comes out wherever the fuck they are.

(Not like much of anything is visible anyway, with the blizzard that's picking up.)

It's almost enough to make him nostalgic for the cave. Almost.

The door turns out to lead down to a basement, where she's got herself a regular training setup. One even the big guy himself would be proud of.

Of fucking course. That sounds like just what someone like Lady Shiva would have in her basement.

"Spar with me," she says, standing in the middle of the mat, across from where Jason's scrambling to get his bearings.

 _Sloppy, so fucking sloppy_ , he thinks with a grunt. He should be better than this. He's been trained to be better than this, more alert, more prepared.

"Spar with you," he repeats, raising an eyebrow. Divert attention then, if he can't be instantly ready. "Lady, do you know what time it is? Because I dunno if anyone should be fighting at this hour, especially without even having eaten or--"

"Yes." She doesn't quite smile at him, but she doesn't quite smirk either, like he kind of expects her to. "I have an idea what your skill level is, but I wish to gauge it for myself. So. Fight me. And _then_ you may have breakfast."

Right. Okay. Not like it'll be Alfred's breakfast, but the promise of it's a pretty good motivator. Besides, not like he's ever really been one to walk away from a challenge if he can help it, token complaints aside.

That not-smile, not-smirk of Shiva's only widens when Jason sinks down into a defensive stance, ready to show her just _what_ he can do.

Except.

She kicks his ass six ways to Sunday, leaving him with bruises he didn't even know he _could_ get, though the biggest of all's gotta be on his pride. And, looking far more amused than someone who just knocked him flat on his ass again and again should have any right to, she sends him back upstairs, without a single word about their little spar.

He reminds himself, as he pulls himself up the stairs, that he's probably lucky Talia arranged this thing, no matter how much he kind of hates himself right now.

If there's one thing Lady Shiva's known for, after all, it's killing those she defeats in battle. Had this been just a brawl in some back street, he probably wouldn't be breathing anymore.

And that's. Huh. Something to think about.

It's definitely not Alfred's breakfast, he thinks once he's at the kitchen table. It's... functional, is the only way he can think to describe it, enough to get him going for the day. And that's fine, too. Not like he's been getting gourmet breakfasts these past couple years.

Halfway through his breakfast, she slips soundlessly through the door into the kitchen, back up from the basement. He only just manages to catch sight of her before she scares the living hell out of him and he can _tell_ she knows it.

Which is just annoying as hell.

She doesn't sit down to eat, only leans against the counter by the small window, a glass of water in hand.

The sun still hasn't come up.

He's beginning to think it never will. (Though at least that'd help him figure out where they are.)

Jason looks away from her when she gives him another of those half-smiles, eyebrows raised, and he focuses back on his food, even if he can still feel her eyes on him.

Jesus. Talk about creepy.

Creepier still is how she suddenly breaks her silence, no warning, when Jason's halfway through shoving the last piece of toast in his mouth.

It's like being around the freaking Bat again.

"Expect to begin this early every day. After that showing, I see we have much work to do."

He swallows, wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and turns around in his chair to face her.

Shiva's still leaning against the counter, her eyes still firmly on Jason.

"What? Didn't like my fighting skills?"

"Not at all," she says, matter of fact, that damn smile still on her face. "That was an absolutely pathetic showing. But that is still, unfortunately, about the level I expected from a student of the Batman. And of those friends of Talia al Ghul's."

"I wouldn't exactly call them her friends," he says, because it's easier than talking about the Bat, about those years spent training with him. Better to think of all those dead teachers (and how the Bat's gonna be fucking joining them soon).

"I don't believe she would either." She shrugs and sets her glass down on the sink to the left of her, then pushes off from the counter. "You have an hour to yourself before you're to begin _learning_. Do not be late." Just like that, the conversation's over and she's pulling on the coat she has hanging by the back door. "And do be sure to wash up," she says over her shoulder, just as she's opening the door and stepping outside.

All right.

An hour. She showed him the bathroom last night, he can have his dish washed and himself bathed in fifteen minutes. Forty minutes, maybe, to look around while Shiva's out, to sniff out whatever he can of where he'll be spending the next however many months. Maybe more.

That in mind, does he really need to worry about her catching him snooping around, when she _has_ to know that's exactly what he'd do? She has to know what her absence from the cabin means.

She's not stupid, he reminds himself, as he stands to do what she's asked.

He can't assume she's like his previous teachers, he reminds himself as he sprints up the staircase.

And it's freaking unreal to think he actually had a conversation with Lady Shiva. And she didn't kill him.

Thanks, Talia.

He thinks.

-

Shiva's not stupid. And she might just not think Jason is either.

Jason doesn't find much during his forty minutes.

The second floor of the cabin is just a hallway and four doors. His room, at the end of the hall, the bathroom right beside it, between his and Shiva's rooms. And one more room with nothing but a desk inside it. Shiva's is locked, as he expected, and he doesn't bother to pick the lock. He gets the feeling he won't find anything there.

The first floor is sparse. There's the kitchen and the entrance doubles as a main room, an old couch, a rug, and a low bookshelf the only items in it.

It's beginning to look more and more like the basement's where the magic happens, the only room Shiva really seems to care about.

Even so, this is obviously not where Shiva spends most of her time. It's clean, no signs of neglect, but everything, from the furniture to the way it's all laid out is impersonal. There are no personal touches at all, if Shiva even gives a crap about them, nothing to point to someone occupying this space regularly. Which begs the question: whose idea was it to train him here? Shiva's or Talia's? Is she only staying here while he is?

After that hour, after more sparring, after amused explanations in between getting knocked flat on his ass yet again and again, and after so many bruises Jason's just about sure he's got more of them than unmarked skin now, they're in the kitchen again, dinner now.

And Shiva actually sits with him this time, across from him at the small table. He doesn't wait for her before he's tearing into his food, not quite willing to _wait_ after the day he's had. And if it's anything like breakfast, she'll just stare at him for a while anyway.

She proves him right immediately, when she doesn't touch her food right away, only folds her hands carefully on the table and--he swears, she has to be doing this on purpose-waits until he's got his mouth full of food to say, voice sharp and sudden, "Tell me, _detective_. How sharp are the investigative skills the Batman drilled into you?"

He chokes.

She waits patiently, making no move other than to push his glass toward him, completely unconcerned.

"Why?" he rasps out, once he's choked down half his glass.

"You've already begun to investigate, haven't you?" she asks, raising her folded hands up to her chin. "You must know I know."

Jason sits up straighter in his chair, eyeing Shiva warily. "Kinda figured you left me alone here on purpose. Was I wrong?"

"Not at all. Everything you will know of this place, I expect you to find on your own. Consider it part of your training." She smirks now, raising an eyebrow. "And I wish to see just what kind of training Batman gave you. I've not had the chance to see as much of his detective skills as I'd like."

Right.

"So you ain't telling me anything."

"Oh, I suppose if your detective skills aren't up to the task, I could tell you some things here and there. If you really cannot do it," she says, a mocking lilt to her tone.

And that, that feels like a challenge. One he's not backing down from.

"Fine. I'll show you."

She only raises an eyebrow.

And kicks his ass again the next day.

-

The thing is, Shiva smirks a lot less than he expected, a hell of a lot less than he expected from the half-crazed villain Batman seems to think she is. (And that she probably, for real is.) Throughout the next couple weeks, she _half-smiles_ a lot, always looking like she's in on some joke Jason isn't and she just can't wait to let him in on the punchline. In one of his more frustrated moments, when she's half-smiling down at him on the training mat, and he's still trying to remember how the hell to make his legs move enough to get him on his feet after getting his ass beat _yet again_ , he wonders if she maybe spent hours, days, weeks, studying the freaking Mona Lisa just to recreate that annoying-ass knowing smile.

Because goddamn is it pissing him the hell off.

He glares at her as he picks himself up, after the hundredth fucking time he couldn't block the move she's showing him. Her expression doesn't change, like something's just _so_ fucking funny and Jesus fucking Christ.

 _Is_ there something important she's not telling him? Or does she just think it's funny to drive him nuts like this?

Or maybe he's already nuts if he's trying to figure Lady fucking Shiva out.

Jason huffs, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He can practically feel the bruises forming, but like hell he's giving up. "Let me try again," he says, once the silence has stretched out too long.

Shiva's only answer is to come right at him again.

And it's when he finally manages to block her hit, after she goes and knocks him down with an entirely new one she'll no doubt explain later, that it quite literally hits him.

She probably doesn't think he's stupid. That's been the whole basis of this training arrangement: she throws him headfirst into things, then explains if she needs to. No preamble, no nothing.

He never gets explanations on her stupid fucking fighting moves until after he's already gotten to see them firsthand. And finding out just where he's been taken is his own thing to do. 

Maybe there _is_ something she's still waiting for him to figure out. Or hell, maybe this is one of the things she wants him to ask about, who the fuck knows. And it might take a genius to find what he's supposed to figure out, or ask, for sure, but he can take a leap and land on what _he_ wants to know.

He's still being trained by _the_ Lady Shiva. She knows his name, Jason Todd. She knows where he's from, Gotham. And she somehow knew that bastard Willis _Todd_ , from Gotham, enough to give him her contact information, and for him to keep it years after the fact. And Jason really, really wants to know how and why. Just how and why does a small-time lackey like his dad end up knowing someone like her?

Well enough to make his son once think that maybe, just maybe she was--

 _No_. Jason picks himself up again, literally shaking the thought away.

Fuck no. That's the last thing he needs to remember and the last thing he needs to twist himself into knots over again.

What he needs to do is get through today's lessons without breaking anything and get to work on finding the answers to the things that do matter.

And really fucking hope he's not barking up the wrong tree here.

-

"Why are you training me?" he asks, later in the day, just as he's closing the door to the basement stairs behind him.

Whatever weight the al Ghul name carries, he doubts even Shiva of all people would do just anything Talia asked. He's not stupid. But this isn't one he can figure out on his own.

"Because Talia al Ghul asked me to. Or because I saw potential in you. Or because I thought it'd be amusing to train the Batman's former protégé. Or..." She shrugs expansively. "Or perhaps I simply wanted to. It makes no difference. I am training you because I am training you."

Jason's not sure what answer he was hoping for, but it's not this one.

"Right... So you just do this for everyone."

Shiva scoffs. "Hardly. Usually, if I need someone to learn, or relearn, the basics, I have someone else do it. I've only recently taught two other people and they were... special, I suppose. But I agreed to train you myself, for reasons of no consequence, and..." She crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly to study him. "I don't know how you'd have fared under my usual contact, with your utter lack of skill."

"What?"

"Nothing of consequence." She stops by the kitchen window. "The weather's calmed some, by the way," she says airily. "You may go out whenever we're not in the middle of lessons now."

It's a pretty clear dismissal and it rankles at Jason, goddamn does it rankle, but he rolls his eyes, too tired to so much as glare at Shiva, and turns on his heel to find the shower.

Whatever.

The next day finds him pulling on the warmest coat he still owns as he slips out the door, Shiva having run off to do whatever it is people like her do when they're alone and not training whatever students they got saddled with.

He's got work to do.

It's still the dead of winter outside. Still cold, still so, _so_ cold it feels like the wind's biting into his skin even through all his layers of clothing. Still colder than even the coldest night in the streets of Gotham with a thin, shitty-ass jacket.

But he gets his first clue. It wasn't just the blizzard, the sun really _isn't_ out, even in the middle of the day.

Jason's lips quirk into a lopsided smile. He remembers studying this kind of thing, back in the cave, and it sure narrows down where they are. Just a few more things he'll need to keep an eye out for before he goes back inside and...

Pfft. Nah, won't even take a real detective to figure it out.

It's with a decidedly lighter step that he runs back to the cottage later, once the cold gets too much for him to bear. His spirits are still high even when Shiva comes back and finds him leaning against one of the kitchen chairs, elbows resting on the backrest.

She raises an eyebrow at him when, without even stopping to think, he flashes a grin, cocky and self-assured, at her.

"What do you want to tell me then?" she asks, unwinding her scarf from around her neck.

"I know where we are," he blurts out.

"Is that so?" she smiles now, that infuriating half-smile of hers, and crosses her arms. "Tell me then."

He jerks his chin at the kitchen window. "The sun ain't coming out, 'xcept for a bit at midday. It's mid-January and we're somewhere in the north that _isn't_ in the Americas. The only other place that'd still be this dark right now is way up north in the farthest parts of Scandinavia. Probably one of the islands."

He finds himself holding his breath as she looks at him, can't fucking breathe until she nods, barely a fraction, her smile turning just the slightest bit less infuriating.

"More or less. Not a bad showing," she says, and sounds like she almost means it.

Jason looks away, down at the chair under his elbows, to hide the smile that threatens to split his face.

That. Shouldn't have felt so good to hear.

Her approval shouldn't mean so much to him.

"I met that replacement of yours some time ago, you know."

The smile drops off his face.

He sucks in a quick breath, clenching his fists. _Him_? She'd bring him up now, of all times? She'd bring him up at all? Jesus fucking Christ, he's the last fucking person he ever wants to hear even a word about. Unless it's the kid's fucking resignation and apology letter.

Maybe his fucking obituary.

He doesn't say anything, he _can't_ say anything in answer to that.

But she doesn't wait for him to.

"He was quite the clever boy, and I'd wondered how you'd measure up to each other in detective skills. But I see he, your replacement, is certainly just as well-trained as you are. Although, with all the extra time he has to hone his detective skills now..."

 _Replacement_ again. He can't hear anything past that word, past the roaring in his ears, the angry thumping of his heart.

The word's like a knife to the heart, like a punch to the solar plexus. Like a (ha _ha_ ) crowbar to the face.

Goddamn does he hate it.

How could she bring him up _now_?

"Right. And you're telling me this, because... What? Felt like caring and sharing?" he grits out.

Shiva doesn't immediately answer.

Against whatever's left of his better judgment, he looks up at her, finds her gazing down at him impassively. There's no trace of that smile left.

"Like giving you some motivation, Jason."

He doesn't watch her leave the room.

-

As the weeks go by, as the thought of _that brat_ in his colors just pushes him further and further on, he can't keep one particular question from continuing to creep into his thoughts.

Jason finally screws up the courage to ask her about it one evening while they're in the small kitchen, after dinner has been cleared away. He's looked everywhere, up and down and more than once and there's nothing, absolutely nothing in the little cottage that ties Shiva to Gotham.

Besides Jason himself.

She has to want him to ask.

"How did you know my dad?" he asks, no preamble, no explanation.

She's done him the courtesy of not treating him like some stupid kid. He'll do her the courtesy of not treating her like she's stupid and doesn't already know why he's asking.

Shiva smiles, knowing. "I had wondered when you would ask," she says, confirming his suspicions, much as it galls him. Casual as ever, she leans against the kitchen counter. And it's strange, still strange, how it feels a little like her default stance in here sometimes, still so at odds with what he expected. "I worked with that Two-Face of yours once. He had quite an interesting, if charmless, lieutenant named Willis Todd. Willis was to help me with my... business in Gotham."

"Your business."

"Nothing that's relevant anymore, I assure you."

"And then you... what? Gave your number to your helper and fucked off after a week?"

She huffs out a laugh and. Okay. That's new. "Not quite. It was a somewhat longer job, some weeks. We had time to..." She taps a finger against her cheek. "Get to know each other, I suppose."

"Get to know each other," Jason says slowly, feeling a little like a parrot here.

"We grew close," she says, as if clarifying, with a raised eyebrow. " _Very close_ , in a sense."

 _Oh_.

Jason's not stupid.

He grimaces. "No."

Shiva's eyes widen and he doesn't fucking buy her innocent act for a second. It doesn't suit her at all. "Yes. Not my best choice in... ah, relationships. But hardly my worst."

" _No_."

She laughs again and, if Jason weren't busy _mentally scrubbing every single word out of his brain_ , he might actually be startled at her doing that twice. "Don't ask if you're not prepared for any answer, Jason."

" _Eugh_. You know what? I'm sorry I asked. I shouldn't have, I don't even wanna know anymore."

Still smiling, Shiva turns to leave and. That should be it. That's how Lady Shiva and Willis Todd met. That's how Willis Todd kept her (outdated) contact information, out of some misplaced nostalgia for a past affair. Jason doesn't need to know anymore. He doesn't _want_ to know anymore.

But something still nags at him.

Before he can think better of it, he blurts out, "How long ago was this?"

She looks over her shoulder at him and, casually, gives him the date. She's out of the room before Jason's even finished processing it.

He can't move. He hears the date and there's a sudden swoop in his stomach, like missing a step.

Early in the same year he was born.

Jason's blood runs cold.

 _Stop_ , he tells himself, pushing off the table with quick, brusque movements. _Stop, you fucking--_

It doesn't mean anything.

It can't mean anything.

He's just fooling himself, looking for anything to distance himself from what happened with _her_. That's all it fucking is.

He leans a hand on the table, pushing his bangs out of his face with his free hand, and slowly blows out a breath. Stupid. Stupid. All it means is Willis Todd was enough of a bastard to cheat on Jason's mom the same damn year he was born. Why the hell would he ever even want it to mean anything else?

Maybe, he thinks, he's a hell of a lot more stupid than he gives himself credit for.

-

Try as he might, he can't get _that_ thought out of his head now. It's not as if he doesn't have enough distractions either, when half his day's spent just barely managing to keep up with Shiva's training. He's got no reason to dwell on such a pointless thing. But it's there. Keeping him up at night, ruining his concentration on the training mat, when he ventures out into the snow.

It's infuriating.

He knows who he is. He's Jason Todd, born in Crime Alley to Willis Todd and _Sheila Haywood_ (just the name still brings a sinking feeling to his stomach and goddamn, he doesn't know what the fuck he's feeling when he thinks of her). Catherine Todd raised him. Batman trained him. Alfred Pennyworth took care of him.

And he _died_ , only to come back as the ghost that's going to set things right. His way.

Jason's not stupid. He knows who he is. And Lady Shiva's just a footnote in who he is, just another in a long line of teachers, special only in the fact she's one of the ones he won't be able to kill, no matter what she does.

That's it.

But.

He knows who he is. He has his dad's eyes, his dad's nose. Willis was as prone to freckles as he is, as tall as he's turning out to be. But those are _his_ cheekbones he sees reflected on Shiva's face, it's that curve of her lip that he's seen in the mirror hundreds of times, the set to his chin.

They might be small things. They might be small enough that he should just ignore them. He doesn't look _that_ much like Shiva. But--and here's what he always hated as a kid--he looks even less like Catherine. And even less like _Sheila_.

That has to mean something.

And maybe it means something more than some pathetic kid who keeps losing his mom.

He groans, pulling his head back enough to thump against the side of the cottage, where he's curled up on a corner of the porch, knees drawn up to his chest. And really regretting having smoked his last cigarette a few weeks back. Not like Lady Shiva's gonna be popping off to buy more anytime soon.

Hadn't those just been a fun few weeks of training, too.

Doesn't matter right now anyway. He doesn't know what the hell Shiva's doing, but she's given him the afternoon off for once, and what's he doing? Agonizing over something that doesn't matter, nothing more than wishful thinking that doesn't even _make sense_.

Why the hell would he want it to be true? She's still probably the crazed killer Batman thinks she is, no matter how _genial_ she acts sometimes with him. People don't just do what she does for kicks, not without having a screw or two loose.

It'd suck, if it were true.

They wouldn't have some tearful reunion, if it were true. The thought alone is laughable.

Besides. If it were true, it'd mean she's known all along. She's known all along and she wasn't around and _fuck_.

He sinks his nails into the fabric of his jeans, gritting his teeth. A hot wave of _something_ crawls up his throat, hot enough to make him forget the cold out here, almost comforting now in its familiarity. It doesn't even choke him anymore.

Fuck it. Why would he want someone who was never around? Who didn't even care to seek him out until someone else hired her out to teach him? If she's never cared, why should he?

Why should it even _matter_?

And, almost as soon as it hit him, the anger's gone, leaving him. He doesn't know. Tired.

He closes his eyes. Of course she was never around. Fuck, why would she ever be? What reason would she ever have to even talk to him? Pointless. It'd be pointless.

If it were true.

If, if, if, if. _If_.

What he can only admit to himself sometimes though, in the dead of night when he can't fall asleep, is that he kind of does want it to be true.

Because, Jesus, he really is fucking stupid.

-

A week after that, when it's beginning to get warmer and the sun shines when it should now, he takes a chance.

"How'd my dad take it?" he says suddenly, one day, while he's sitting on the training mat in the basement, vague enough that he can still cover his ass, _if_ he's totally wrong here.

He doesn't need to expand on his question.

Shiva doesn't miss a beat when she answers him. "Oh, shock. Horror. Shame--he did have a fiancée, I found later, though I don't think he ever married her..." She shrugs. "It didn't surprise me. About what you would expect from Willis Todd."

Her tone is casual, but her eyes are sharp, her expression seeming to say _figured it out, have you?_ He thinks that might even be approval in it and that, more than anything, that stupid, stupid fucking thing he shouldn't be so internally glad to see, is what convinces him.

Yeah. He's figured it out all right.

And he kind of hates himself a little for it.

"Yeah?" Jason asks, and pretends he doesn't feel the lump forming in his throat.

He doesn't know how he should react. He doesn't know how _she_ wants him to react.

"And what about when you showed up again a few months later?" His heart pounds, this is it. No turning back from this question.

"Ah, when I entrusted something to him? About the same as before, only more... subdued, I suppose. I imagine he'd worked something out with his fiancée. Again, as expected. "I don't have to tell you what your father was like, now do I?"

He clenches his fists over the fabric of his pants to stop them from shaking. "Nah. I had enough years with him to know. He was a piece of shit. Don't even know what happened to him in the end..."

"I couldn't tell you." She shakes her head. "I never did try to find out. The fates of Two-Face's henchmen weren't quite the rumors from Gotham I kept an ear out for."

Jason looks down at the mat, suddenly _can't_ look at Shiva. He doesn't want to know what those rumors she kept tabs on were.

He knows they'll have nothing to do with him, nothing do with _something I entrusted to him_. He just, he _knows_. And he can't let himself think otherwise right now.

"Is that enough training for today then?" she asks.

And Jason tries to speak, really, he does, but.

But.

"Very well then," she goes on when he doesn't answer. "You have the rest of the day to yourself. Just this once."

He doesn't say anything, just watches her leisurely head to the staircase. And watches her stop to look over her shoulder at him. "You have a half-sister, you know. Not much older than you," Shiva says, the clearest confirmation he could ask for. She gives him that mocking smile of hers. "I've heard she's working with Batman now."

He blinks, then she's gone.

It's a long while until he manages to pick himself up off the mat.

He thinks his mind should probably be racing. He should be thinking. He should be going over everything Shiva said.

But his mind's strangely blank, _stays_ that way even as he climbs the stairs and wanders up to his room. He's got nothing even as he sits at the edge of his bed, hands clenched over his knees.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, staring at the opposite wall. Shiva doesn't make him come down to eat and he doesn't bother to go.

Seeing her face right now might just be a little too much anyway.

Maybe he should be angry. Maybe he should throw another fit like he did in that hotel that time. He's been angry enough the last few years. The fact he hasn't felt _as_ angry recently shouldn't mean anything, should be an invitation even. It should feel good to let it all out now, to scream out _whatever_ he's feeling right now.

But right now? He's got nothing. _Nothing_.

He misses Catherine, he realizes, he doesn't know how long after he reaches his room. He misses her so much it's like a physical ache.

And that. That's when something snaps.

He hunches forward and, all at once, it's like he's burning up from the inside.

It's not fucking fair. What's the point, what's the fucking point in _throwing_ all these people at him? Willis, Catherine, Sheila, _Bruce_. And now Lady Shiva, of all people. What's the point? When it always ends the same way. When the only ones of them who ever gave a damn still couldn't stick around or turned their fucking backs on him because their precious morals were more important than _Jason_ ever was to them?

He breathes out heavily, ducking his head. Maybe he'd be better off without any of them at all.

In the end, he doesn't break anything or even yell. It's only tears, faster than he can roughly wipe them away, that come. But it fucking feels like something broke, like _he_ broke something the moment he had to open his big fat mouth.

-

He tries not to think about his little _whatever that was_ after talking to Shiva, because he's too damn old by now to. Well.

Whatever.

Shiva doesn't treat him any differently, still seems to be making fun of him with every little thing she does, so he tries not to act any differently. He can follow her lead in this, whatever this is turning out to be.

He doesn't need another mother anyway. He _doesn't_.

Except.

As the next weeks go by, Shiva begins to almost seem more human to his eyes. Sometimes. And Jason kind of has to mentally kick himself every time he thinks it.

He can't forget who this woman is, no matter how _human_ she acts sometimes. No matter what blood relation she happens to have to him. In the end, nothing's changed. In the end, she doesn't care to be anything more to him. And she's still a killer--one nothing like him, at that. He just kills the people who deserve it, thank you very much.

So what she's doing? When she almost smiles at him when he gets a move right, when she laughs at Jason cracking some half-assed joke? It doesn't matter. It doesn't change who she is, no matter how much nicer she almost seems to be sometimes.

But she doesn't let him forget it.

"Where are you from?" he asks her one evening, while he's cleaning up after getting kitchen duty. One moment he's thinking it, the next he's blurting it out like an idiot and fuck. This isn't Alfred or even Bruce, he can't get this comfortable around _Shiva_.

Instead of saying anything about being asked such a personal question though, one that doesn't _really_ have to do with Jason, she just half-smiles. "Where _I'm_ from? It's been some time since anyone asked me that."

"Shit, you don't have to answer that, it doesn't really--"

"Detroit."

He stares at her.

She raises an eyebrow. "Were you expecting somewhere more exciting?"

He was kind of expecting her to have sprung up fully formed in the League of Assassins headquarters, he thinks inanely. And definitely doesn't say.

She laughs when he doesn't answer, the sound just bordering on mocking. "Yes, I'm afraid your origins _are_ that mundane on both sides. Tragically so."

He rolls his eyes as she leaves the room without another word.

The next day though. She does something she's never done before, just a little thing, during training.

Jason manages to get something right on the first try, doesn't even need her to explain this time, just blocks, rolls right out of the way, and replicates the move.

And Shiva _stops_. She sidesteps him and just _looks_ at him, eyebrows drawn and lips pursed in thought. Then, like clouds parting, she _smiles_ at him, actually smiles, seemingly sincere.

Jason takes a step back.

"Well done," Shiva says. Her voice sounds like it always does, almost unconcerned. But that _smile_... "That's the best work I've seen from you yet."

Numbly, Jason nods. He can't really figure out the look on her face, but he doesn't... dislike it?

He thinks.

With an odd note he can't quite identify, she goes on, "You would still be mostly hopeless against me, of course, until you grow stronger. But I do think you're ready to take on everything I could hope for now."

Jason blinks and can only look at her, eyes wide in wonder. He can't have heard that right. There's gotta be some kind of catch.

But she only steps back, still fucking _smiling_ , and turns away. "I'd say that's enough training for today."

Jason doesn't move from his spot at the center of the mat.

And he thinks he once hated being around her. Hated how she always seemed to be making fun of him and seemed to be hovering around him whenever they trained, until he was just about ready to scream. But now? Maybe... Maybe, if she keeps hovering around him, he won't exactly complain.

Maybe.

-

Then, suddenly, she's not hovering around him. Jason oversleeps one day, a week after that moment on the training mat, and finds the cottage empty.

But that doesn't mean anything beyond their training being delayed for the day. Right?

He waits, figuring she's pulled one of her disappearing acts and she'll be back by noon.

But noon comes and goes. The afternoon comes and goes.

And he's still alone.

He's not sure how many times he paces the first floor, how much time he spends out on the porch in the early spring sunlight. But, eventually, he can't take it anymore.

He heads down to the basement, intent on beating the shit out of one of the punching bags until it feels less like he's about to crawl out of his skin. And that's when he finds it. A note lying innocently on the training mat, addressed to him, with a date and time--the next morning--and directions.

And. That's it. Those simple directions are the way to the dock he first arrived in, where Talia's men dropped him off.

Where they'll apparently be waiting for him in the morning.

Jason chokes, bracing himself against one of the walls. It doesn't take the World's Greatest Detective to figure out what's going on.

Shiva's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god i have no idea what i'm doing. Gotham and other characters (including Dick!!) in the next chapter, I swear.
> 
> Anyway, this is tentatively set at about five chapters for now. We'll see if it turns out that way.
> 
> And, worth noting! Maybe not so much now, but later. Jason is definitely an unreliable narrator. And there is definitely a lot still left unanswered.
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♥


	2. there to remind you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wherein vigilantes need new places to meet.
> 
> Don't mind me as I shove Countdown and OYL away now too. Hilarious as tentaclejay is, I think we might just have to have to do without him here. And I'm just kinda playing around with the timeline here a little, buuut some references to the end of Cass' solo run and Infinite Crisis here and there.

The next time he sees Talia, he lasts all of a handful of minutes before he just can't keep his damn mouth shut anymore.

"Did you know?" he asks, interrupting her in the middle of telling him about where she plants to send him next.

Talia blinks slowly at him. "Did I know what?"

"About Shiva," he says, sounding more impatient than he really meant to. He doesn't care.

"You'll have to be more specific. There is much I know about Lady Shiva and much I do not."

Jason sucks in air through his teeth. No, she knows exactly what he means. She has to be doing this on purpose. "I mean, about the fact we've kinda got a connection here."

Talia shrugs, the movement more elegant than it has any right to be. "Of course you have a connection. She was your teacher, wasn't she? And I'm sure you learned a great deal from her." She taps her fingertips against the table. "Anything else... Well. She did make sure I knew everything I needed to about her training you. There was simply no need to mention any of it yet."

He looks away, jaw clenching. So she did know. At some point, at least. "'Course she did. You didn't think it was important to tell me?"

"It wasn't for me to tell," Talia says and Jason could just _laugh_. As if she's ever cared about this kind of thing the whole time he's known her. "It seems you managed to figure it out anyway, you didn't need _my_ help."

At that answer, he bites the inside of his cheek, clenching his fists under the table. Great. Wonderful. Just the answer he needed to hear. Just the right fucking answer. Hell, just the kind of thing Shiva would have told him, too. "It'd have been real nice if you'd told me anyway, you know."

"Perhaps. But what's done is done, Jason. I'm sure you'll have other opportunities to speak to her about it in time."

He's not sure he even wants to see her face right now, but.

Yeah.

"Guess so. Anything _else_ I should know right now?"

"Only who your next teacher will be."

Fine. He can get through one more teacher.

-

After that, Jason doesn't stick with Talia for long.

He gets one more teacher, spends some time in London with the guy, and _doesn't_ take his chance to kill the Joker. For a reason, goddamnit.

Because then he's off, back to America, with a new plan to put into action.

He _doesn't_ think about Shiva the whole time. It's pointless to dwell on her. She was just another teacher. A footnote. Someone that _shouldn't matter_.

There's no point, not when he's got another former teacher to focus on now.

He knows exactly what he has to do now, with a clarity he hasn't felt in years. It's not killing Batman. It's not just putting the man out of his misery in revenge. It's making him look at what he's done, making him _confront_ it, what his inaction's done, what happens when he puts his precious fucking code above all else. When he keeps dragging people into this fucked up thing between him and the Joker.

It's giving Bruce one last chance to make it all right. And to be rid of the Joker, once and for all.

He even keeps doing it the smart way, the careful way. And wouldn't Bruce be proud of that, he thinks, no small amount of bitterness in the thought.

He lets that Hush guy serve as some extra recon for him, confident in the fact that it doesn't matter what kind of information Jason feeds him. He still won't be able to kill Batman, no matter what fancy tricks he pulls out. Though he kind of, almost, regrets his method when he sees Bruce up close for the first time in years in that graveyard, right before he runs off to switch places with Clayface. Because the way he feels like his heart's being ripped out of his chest after? The way he can't _breathe_ for a while there?

He doesn't know if it was worth it.

But, he tells himself, he's got no time to focus on that, no time to cry over yet _another_ fucking parent. Teacher. Whatever.

He's not sorry for how roughly he treats the freaking replacement in that graveyard though.

Besides, it gets him the last bit of intel he needs in Gotham. Just _how_ to deal with the kid in _his_ role. All that's left is Bludhaven and making sure none of the Bats there can interfere too much.

So he pops on by for a couple days for a little vacation.

The crazy thing is though, he knows this is Nightwing's territory, but he doesn't see hide or hair of Wonder Boy there, barely manages to hear even a whisper of him, which. Weird. He and Dick might not have ever been close, but he can still tell this isn't quite his style. If nothing else, he'd never be this silent all the time, Jason's confident of that much. Dick wouldn't be able to stand it.

It could be a bad sign, could mean he'll pop up just when it's most inconvenient. _Or_ it could mean he's too busy with some case or something to ruin everything Jason's planned, he doesn't know. He's not sure he's willing to take his chances though.

Whatever the reason, he doesn't find Nightwing during those few days. He considers tracking him down, just to be sure he won't interfere, but settles for keeping an eye out instead. Probably better _not_ to risk revealing himself before he's ready.

No matter how long he waits though, Nightwing's still nowhere to be found.

But there's someone else Jason finds.

He spots her one night, of all times, from the roof of the warehouse where he's set up shop in Bludhaven, and it's sheer coincidence he even manages to do that much. He looks up at just the right time. And there she is, silent and quick and all in black, slipping from one roof to another.

Just that glimpse is enough to tell him who that must be.

Batgirl.

The new Batgirl. The new definitely-not-Babs Batgirl that, after all his recon around Gotham, after finding she's basically the newest addition there, he's almost one hundred percent is the girl Shiva hinted at that once. The new Batgirl that he'd known was in Bludhaven, too, but had proved to be just as elusive as Nightwing.

Jason takes in a shaky breath and raises a hand to his eyes. Yeah. All right. It pays to be Batman-level prepared, he thinks, once he remembers he thought to go up the rooftop with a domino mask on. He spares it barely another thought, before he's reaching for the grapple gun at his side and scrambling to his feet. No time to waste, if he wants to catch up to her.

He doesn't ask himself why he's chasing after her, as he swings onto the next rooftop, rolls, runs, and off to the next one after that. And after that, and that.

It's not important, not when he could focus on catching up.

Batgirl's fast, damn fast, enough that, several rooftops later, he's actually beginning to wonder if he'll be able to catch up before she runs off back to wherever she's holed up here, when she _stops_.

She leaps onto the rooftop of another warehouse, rolls, and smoothly rises to her feet dead in the middle of the roof. She doesn't turn around, only stands still, head held high and arms held loosely at her sides.

She still doesn't move when Jason lands on the same roof and stows away his grapple.

Jason frowns, shifting on his feet. She's still just as creepily silent as the moment stretches on and just when he's about to lose his patience and, he doesn't know, actually talk to her like he probably should, she slowly turns around and.

Whoa, okay, that mask is freaky. Definitely not what Babs would've worn.

"Why are you following me?" Her voice is softer than Jason expected, quiet.

And here's where he probably should've stopped to think, should've probably planned something before running off half-cocked after a shadow. He really doubts _So, how's it going, big sis?_ is really gonna work out here. But, shit, he can improvise, can't he?

Jason shrugs, the movement larger than he would usually make it. "Oh, you know, figured I'd drop in on the Bat I haven't met yet."

"Why?" she repeats, tone hard. "Who are you? This... This isn't Gotham."

"Oh, trust me. I know that."

"Then... What do you want?" She lowers her voice this time and that's. Actually even creepier. Wow.

"It's like I told ya. Thought I should introduce myself, you know? Do the neighborly thing here now that I'm moving into Gotham again."

She shakes her head slowly, and he gets the distinct feeling she's studying him behind that creepy mask of hers. "I don't understand. Who are you..." Batgirl trails off, tilting her head. Yeah, okay. She's definitely doing some kind of inspection here.

"Uh," he says, when that mask just keeps staring at him the longer he doesn't speak. "You okay there?"

"Jason?" she asks suddenly.

What. The fuck.

He winces at his name coming out of that mask, but. The shock wears off quickly enough. They were alone last he checked and he's a dead man anyway.

There's an easy explanation for how she knows anyway. And he's not sure he likes it. "Oh, so the Big Bad Bat _did_ tell you about me, did he?" he spits out before he can think through the words. "I couldn't be more flattered."

"Yes," she says, unaffected by his tone. "I saw pictures, too. You're... dead." She shakes her head again and whispers, "You're supposed to be."

He frowns, forcing himself to take a breath in through his nose. Fuck. Fuck it.

"You think so?" He spreads his arms and makes a show of inspecting himself, because it's easy to joke, even when he's not exactly feeling it. Much easier. "I don't know, I _feel_ alive. Think I look it, too. What do you think?"

"I..." She shakes her head again, seeming to snap herself out of _something_. "Why does he think you're dead."

"Does it matter? It ain't Batman I'm looking for right now."

He thinks she's staring at him again. Very slowly, she says, "I understand. You don't want to tell me why."

" _Yeah_?"

"I don't know why you're... nervous. But I understand."

He blinks. What? "What."

"You don't want to tell me how you're alive or why Batman doesn't know. Because... It makes you nervous," she says, as if that explains anything.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, I'm gonna ignore that, because that's freaky as shit." Seriously. Did Shiva neglect to mention Batgirl's a meta this time or something? "But it's kinda' complicated. Me and death had a disagreement. So to speak."

"What?"

He's not really sure he wants to elaborate on that and, through whatever freaky meta creepy mask powers it is she's using, Batgirl seems to pick up on that.

"No... Never mind. Why were you looking for me?"

Bingo.

"Let's say we... have something in common I wanted to talk to you about," he says, as delicately as he can.

"You were Robin. I... know. We both worked with Batman."

"Besides that."

She only tilts her head at him again, waiting silently.

And. Okay, this girl's turning out to be weirder than Shiva in a completely different way. But, fine. Fine. He can deal.

As much as the thought of being this honest is making his skin crawl already, what other chance is he going to get to do this without the Bat breathing down his neck? "A relative, Batgirl. I think we have a relative in common."

For one long moment, Batgirl doesn't speak, the confusion just about radiating from her and her weird-ass mask. "Batman?" she asks, almost tentatively. "I'm not... I haven't been..."

He cuts a hand through the air. "No," he says firmly. Nope, he can only think about one parental figure at a time right now, thank you very much. "Not him."

Abruptly, she straightens, wary. "Cain."

Jason crosses his arms, breathing out a long sigh. "Uh, no. I have no freakin' clue who that is."

Batgirl stares at Jason.

Jason stares at Batgirl.

"I don't understand." She sounds genuinely, _actually_ confused and a creeping suspicion starts to form in Jason's mind.

"No? Can't think of any other family?"

She only shakes her head again. "I've never met my mom."

Fuck.

Fuck, of course.

_She doesn't know_.

Of course he wasn't the only kid she went and dropped off somewhere, not even in that was he fucking unique.

_Of course_.

"Never mind." He taps the toe of his boot on the concrete underneath his feet.

Of course she doesn't know.

So he could tell her. He doesn't have proof, but it's not like she couldn't use Batman to confirm it. Hell, the two of them could launch their own investigation to find out Jason's telling the truth. He could tell her, then he wouldn't be the only one who knows this shit. He'd have some kind of...

He scoffs inwardly. Some kind of _what_ exactly was he hoping for?

Nothing, that's what. 

Getting Batman involved here is the absolute last thing he needs right now. Jason _can't_ actually afford for her to go to him with questions that Bruce will want answered, too. He can't afford to have Bruce find out he's alive yet, much less right next door. Or about his parentage.

Jesus, this was a stupid idea. He'll think everything through and not this, won't he?

"Don't tell Batman you saw me, all right?" he goes on, before Batgirl can speak again.

"No. What were you talking about? Who..." She takes a step closer to him. "I have to tell him."

Jason takes a step backward and just about manages to say, "Please," without feeling _too_ pathetic about it. "He's gonna see me in a few weeks anyway. Trust me."

"But what about..."

"No. I probably got the wrong person. Just 'cause you know Batman, yeah? Got my wires crossed here." He grins, insincere.

"You're lying."

His mind still screaming at him that _this was a mistake_ , Jason raises his hands in front of him, casual as he can. "Probably," he concedes, because, shit, what's the point in denying it now? She keeps seeing right through him. "But how about you let me go now and I tell you later?"

This was a bad idea. Hell, does she even want to know who her mother is? He should have actually _thought_ about this.

"No. Is it about my mom--"

Jason doesn't stick around to hear the end of that sentence.

Because, fuck, he can run in this damn family, too.

Batgirl doesn't follow him.

-

Miraculously, Batgirl does not sell him out to Batman.

In fact, a week later she seems to have disappeared from Bludhaven entirely, with not even a whisper of just _where_ she's run off to. By then though, Jason's back in Gotham and with his own plan to set into motion, with no time to spare for anything else.

His plan is _all_ that matters.

Except.

Except. He _fails_. Years of training, his most carefully laid plans, and none of it matters in the end. _Jason_ doesn't matter in the end, not to Bruce and not to the fucking Batman, because his precious fucking moral code still wins out over everything else. Over _him_. Keeping the Joker alive is still more fucking important.

Sure shows him what his worth is, in the end, if he gives Bruce the perfect chance, the perfect out, the perfect reason, and he still saves that psychopath.

Jesus, it doesn't even matter in the end. He _fails_.

This time, Jason doesn't know what the hell he's feeling when he pulls himself out of the wreckage of that apartment building, sometime after Bruce and the Joker have left (long after Bruce completely failed to find him in the wreckage). Though there's something to be said about the fact he actually did walk away from it this time.

No leaving in a wooden box this time, he thinks, and finds himself leaning against an alley wall, laughing softly to himself. Even if every little huff, every chuckle, feels like he's pulling gravel from straight in the center of his chest out his throat.

" _Fuck_ ," he hisses, slamming a fist against the brick of the wall. He barely even feels it through his already singed gloves, past his bruised and torn knuckles.

That's it then. That's it. Another fucking disappointment--three, four, fuck he doesn't even know how many anymore--and Jason all the stupider for even daring to think it wouldn't end like this, just this once.

_Fuck_.

What now?

He should just get the hell out of Gotham already. What the hell else is there left for him in this miserable-ass city? He's not even sure if he can keep his new operation here running now that Bruce knows it's him. Even if Bruce thinks he died in the explosion, it'd only take a few days back on the job for him to figure it out.

Fuck.

_Fuck_.

-

A couple weeks later, and still in Gotham, Jason very firmly tells himself he's not licking his wounds.

Even if he actually _does_ still have his fair amount of burns and scrapes.

The Red Hood hasn't exactly revealed himself to his men again just yet, and he thinks he might even get away with lying low for a few more days before he really has to interfere. But it's strange, to spend all this time in Gotham without a clear plan in mind anymore. And without anyone really even knowing where he is. He feels... adrift, and he can't say he likes it.

He does have options. He could try to find out where Shiva ran off to, it's not like he doesn't have the resources or the investigative skills, but. It seems pointless. Almost as pointless even as looking for Bruce again. They've both made what they think of Jason more than clear by now. Painfully so.

There's Batgirl, too, but. Fuck. He doesn't know where _she_ went off to either and, sure, he could find that out, too, but. How the fuck is he supposed to explain how they're related anyway? When he's still just going off what Shiva hinted at?

Not like it matters. He doesn't run into Batman or any of his brood during that time and, fears about having him come sniffing after Jason's location aside, he can't say he even _knows_ where the guy's gone. Or where most of the damn Bats have run off to.

What rumors he does manage to hear have little to do with Batman, much more with Bludhaven. Then he can't quite help a twinge of _something_ either when he finds out what happened in the aftermath of whatever that was in that city and realizes he has no idea what happened to the Golden Boy in it. His mocking words to Bruce suddenly seem to mock him right back then, a nasty reminder that maybe he _was_ right without even realizing it. Maybe Batman and that brat have just gone off and disappeared in mourning.

It doesn't feel as satisfying as it did when he said it. Not even as satisfying as he'd once thought it would. Not for Nightwing and not for Batman.

(Maybe the replacement. Maybe. The thought still feels hollow somehow.)

So. Whatever. He thinks about leaving Gotham again.

But doesn't.

He thinks about trying to find just where Batman's run off to. Just to know.

But doesn't try.

He thinks about tracking down his maybe sister.

But doesn't.

In the end though, he doesn't need to track _her_ down.

One night, he's cooling his heels on his new Gotham safe house's rooftop, having a smoke, when a shadow drops down in front of him.

His cigarette slips from his fingers, and he just barely remembers to hurriedly put it out as he stands, keeping his guard up.

"Fancy seeing you again," he drawls, once the shadow materializes in his eyes into a girl in street clothes. Batgirl. From her movements, the way she landed so seamlessly, it has to be Batgirl. "Had a nice vacation?"

"No," the girl says, in what is definitely Batgirl's voice. Her posture is rigid, even more tense than Jason himself and, Jesus, what even happened? "I found my mom," she whispers, an odd note to her voice.

_Oh_. That explains her disappearance.

"Didn't invite me? Should I be offended?"

Batgirl sucks in an audible breath. "No... I'm sorry, I. Had to do it alone."

Jason waves a hand dismissively. Fuck. Whatever. He doesn't _want_ to see Shiva right now. "Forget it. You said you found her?"

Wordlessly, Batgirl nods.

"And you didn't know who she was before that, did you?" he asks, though he's sure he already knows the answer, because, okay. She's quiet. He's starting to get the picture here. He's gotta keep the conversation moving himself.

"No. But I do now. She's..." Even in the dark, Jason can see her clenching her fists. " _Shiva_."

There it is. It's ridiculous how he actually _feels_ some of the tension leave his shoulders at that, at someone else acknowledging it, saying it out loud.

"Yeah," he says on a huff of laughter. And because he just can't help himself, he grins, and asks, "How's it going, big sis?" Turns out, it definitely sounds just as stupid out loud as it did in his head.

She doesn't laugh.

Honestly, he doesn't really feel like laughing much either.

The silence stretches on again, then she's stepping forward into the weak little patch of light Jason's got himself here, letting him catch his first real glimpse of his sister.

She looks more like Shiva than he does, is his first completely inane thought. If he looks closely, he can see the features she shares with him, the same ones he shares with Shiva, but at first sight? Definitely like her. He's still the kid who looks more like his dad.

Unfortunately. (And it should be pathetic that he even thinks that.)

And, Jesus, this is weird. It's not until she's up close and with the creepy mask off that he really notices how much shorter than him she is, too. Right. Older sister. He's freaking towering over his older sister. That seems a little backwards here.

"But how?" she asks, brows drawn and lips turned down in a frown. "How did you know before me? ...Cain isn't your father, too? You didn't..."

"Nope." He already looked into the guy, in the time he had after, well, _Bruce_ , and he's definitely not related to the guy. "My dad was just some small-time Gotham lackey, not this _Cain_. Sorry."

"No. It's good you're not..." She shakes her head, running a hand through her hair. " _How_? Does Batman know?"

Jason frowns. Amazingly, Bruce is probably one of the only people in this mess who _didn't_ keep anything about this from him. "Batman doesn't know. Long story, but I spent some time training with Shiva a couple months back. That's how _I_ found out. She, in her eternal freakin' grace, told me I had a big sister. After some snoopin', it turns out that big sister's Batgirl."

"My name's Cassandra," Batgirl says abruptly. "Like... Like her name. Sandra."

Jason blinks.

That? _Sandra_? That's news to him. News that should have been really damn obvious, if he'd actually stopped to _think_.

It makes sense, of course it does. Of course her real name wouldn't be fucking Shiva, of all things.

He almost smiles, bitter more than anything. Dramatics must run in the family.

"Cassandra, huh? Well, not exactly the kind of family reunion I was expecting, Cass." But which of them has been anyway? This might well be the first one that doesn't end with him bruised all over. Or dead. "But good to meet Shiva's _other_ forgotten kid."

She doesn't answer at first, only stares up at him with wide eyes, then drops down onto the rooftop, to sit cross-legged. At her expectant look, he mimics her, lowering himself down to sit in front of her because. Fine. Whatever. He was tired of standing anyway.

And it's more than a little surreal, to be sitting here calmly speaking with the sister he didn't even know he had a few months ago. He almost feels like he should be having some kind of out of body experience here, _something_ to make it more dramatic than it really is. Certainly something more dramatic than trying not to stare dumbly at her while she stares _outright_ at him, as if she were trying to study him. Still. That's beginning to reach peak weird levels.

But it just. Is. It is what it is and he almost feels like he's doing something wrong here. Maybe he should have practiced some script for this, some points to hit beyond _hey, we're related_. He pulled it off with Bruce, didn't he?

( _Ha_ , Bruce.)

"I'm sorry."

"Shit." He scoffs, suddenly more uncomfortable by that than he's willing to admit. "You didn't even do anything."

She gives him a look he would almost call pitying, if he could even stomach the thought.

"So," he goes on, when she doesn't speak and that _look_ starts getting to be a little too much to bear. "You on your way to the Batcave or something? Because..." He gives her a significant look, then at her clothes.

So not the thing to be swinging around Gotham in.

"Oh... No. I just got back. I looked for you... first."

And he has to have misunderstood that, because. No. She did not come looking for him first.

"Uh-huh." What the fuck. "'Cause of dear ol' mom?"

"Yeah. She said I had... a brother. And I remembered you." Cassandra purses her lips in thought. "Do you know where she went... after? After training you?"

"Hell no." And he's been alternating between trying not to think about it and wanting to _scream_ about it, thank you very much. "Not a freakin' clue. She didn't exactly leave her itinerary with me."

Cassandra shifts, folding her hands in her lap, and nods. "I fought her," she whispers. "I don't know where she went... I left her by the Lazarus Pit. She'll be okay, but..."

Jason doesn't hear anything beyond _Lazarus Pit_. It's like a sudden itch right under his skin, still there no matter how much he scratches, a tingling in the back of his head, in the tips of his fingers.

This is new.

He takes in a slow breath and holds a hand up. "Whoa. Back up, back up. Lazarus Pit? What the hell were you guys doing near one?"

"A lot happened... I got hurt. And she put me in it. Then we fought."

"And you won," he says slowly. He can't explain the feeling that rushes over him at that, at the thought that. What? He's not alone here? Because his sister had a dip in the crazy magic pit, too? Because she, apparently, almost killed their mom? She was good enough to beat Lady Shiva?

He feels short of breath. He doesn't know.

Cass nods. Not like he needed the confirmation.

"Wow, so it's family tradition by now," he jokes, and doesn't mean a word of it. Deep breaths. He's okay.

Cassandra frowns up at him, eyebrows flying up to her hairline. "That's how you're alive."

His lips twist into a humorless smile. "Nah. The Lazarus Pit is the reason I'm conscious. I don't know how the hell I'm alive."

"Oh."

It's obvious there's more she wants to ask him, but she only looks down at her hands on her lap, biting her lip.

"No clue where she went after either?" he asks, before she can say whatever she's thinking up in that head of hers.

She straightens up. "No. And that's why I should... I'm... leaving Gotham."

It takes Jason a moment to process that.

" _What?_ " He blurts out, before he can even stop to think about _why_. "You're kidding, right?"

Suddenly, the idea of the sister he just met up and disappearing (from the very same city his hypocrite ass keeps meaning to leave) is freaking unthinkable and Jesus fucking Christ how pathetic is he being right now?

"No." She shakes her head, something actually regretful crossing her face for a moment. "I shouldn't stay. After what I..." She closes her eyes. "I don't know if I should... I don't know what she's going to do next."

"Look," he interrupts, because he can't really consider what she's getting at right now. "You don't have to go anywhere. Shiva? She's pullin' her usual disappearing act here, who the fuck knows why. Maybe we go looking for her later, maybe we don't. Maybe she tracks _us_ down this time. But what're you gonna do if you go?"

"What... will I do if I stay?"

"Shit, I don't know. Whatever you usually do here?" And shit. Shit. It hits him that she doesn't know. She's been gone for weeks. He heaves out a sigh. "Batman's run off somewhere," he goes on, feeling as if he has to physically drag every word out of his chest. "After that mess in Bludhaven. But he's probably just sulking, he'll turn up. So... Whatever you usually do when he's busy, I guess."

"I don't need to always work with him."

Jason spreads his arms. "See? What d'ya need to ask me for then?"

Her frown only deepens, if anything. "I'll... think about it. Okay?" As gracefully as freaking Shiva herself, she rises to her feet and takes a step back. "I'll... talk to you later?"

She waits for him to nod before leaving, more of a courtesy than he gave her the last time they met.

He could leave, he thinks again, regardless of what he told Cass. Then immediately scoffs at himself. Who's he fooling?

He can't leave Gotham.

-

Three times makes a pattern.

He's done sulking ( _sulking_ , as if he was ever sulking). Early in the night, not long after the sun goes down, he's out on his current safe house's half-assed balcony, laptop open in front of him.

Fuck it, fuck it. Fuck what Bruce chose, fuck what he thinks. Fuck his _precious morals_. He's got an operation to run here, men to lead, and the Bat himself to deal with whenever he shows his face again and realizes Jason's still alive. Again.

He's wasted enough time.

(He can just _hear_ Shiva's mocking voice, telling him the freaking replacement would have already gotten back to work, would have already actually killed the Batman or something. Fuck, he doesn't know what his endgame is anymore, beyond the operation he's set up in Gotham. And isn't that the most infuriating thing of all?)

He's just snapping his laptop shut, making to stand, when he's knocked flat on his ass.

Jason gasps, scrambling back to his feet, and it takes him a moment to realize it's _Cass_ who's just knocked him over, with a harsh shove as she landed.

Cassandra's out of costume again, something he's sure Bruce wouldn't be happy about it if he saw it, but he barely has any time to focus on that, not when she's stepping forward and roughly hauling him back to his feet.

He lets her, more than a little alarmed at the freaking _strength_ she hauls him up with. Sure didn't get that from dear ol' Mom.

"I know who the Red Hood is now," she says, steel in her voice. "It's you."

Fuck.

"Right..." he says, buying time to get his bearings, step back and find his balance here again. "The Red Hood, yeah, I've heard of him. I hear he stirred up some trouble recently."

"You killed people," she says firmly, advancing on him.

"Criminals," he snaps. Really? This is _really_ what she comes at him with? After the last time they spoke? "People who deserved it."

"No one deserves it." She's only inches away from him now, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

He doesn't back down, gets as much in her face as she is in his. " _They_ did. The city's better off without them. Hell, the world is."

"No. We can't decide that. You can't..."

"Well, Batman's not gonna, is he?" It comes out bitter, _so_ bitter, but hell. She probably already knows all about what happened between them anyway.

"He can't either. It's not right." And she sounds _so_ sure, _so_ convinced that this thinking, this certainty, could only come from Bruce himself.

"He can't because he's a _coward_. He's a coward and he's tied himself down with his own rules! Who else has to die before he gets it?! My replacement? Nightwing? What about that girl I heard'd been hangin' around Gotham..." He snaps his fingers, as if he'd just remembered. No, he did his research, thank you. "The Spoiler?"

Cassandra goes very still. "Don't. Talk about her."

Jason spares a moment to feel just the slightest pang of guilt at her reaction, at the tightness that creeps into her tone, but he shakes it off. He tells himself it's necessary, it's something he _has_ to tell her if she's started this conversation. Bruce deserves no less, as far as he cares.

"Don't you think she'd still be here if Batman had offed a few guys before?"

" _No_!" she gasps, shaking her head. "It's not... the only thing that could have saved her."

"That so?"

" _Yes_. We don't have to kill. We don't kill."

He laughs, bitter. "We don't kill. So tell me," he just about manages to say past the roaring in his ears. "Why'd Shiva need a Lazarus Pit, huh?"

Eyes widening in horror, Cassandra takes a step back. "I... Shiva didn't... She's not dead."

"But she almost was, wasn't she? Why was _that_?" He's not even thinking anymore, doesn't even bother to consider _why_ she didn't want to talk about it last time. Why should it matter?

She clenches her jaw. "Because I had to. It's not about... who deserves it. I don't do that."

"You had to," he repeats harshly.

"It was between us." Cass looks him straight in the eye, her fists clenched so tightly they shake. "I've killed before. Never again. And you... Never again."

"That's not for you to decide, honey." Although that answer from her? That's a revelation. And sure explains her loyalty to Bruce's ideals here.

They've just got _so_ much in common already.

"You won't."

"What? Big sis gonna make me stop killing?"

She tosses her head. "Yes. If I have to."

She means it, he realizes. Cass means every word and, suddenly, he feels a little as if he's taken a wrong step, a wrong turn somewhere. He's looked into her, too.

He shouldn't forget what she's capable of.

"Yeah, I don't think so." He holds himself carefully, warily. "Gotta say though, I kinda' liked our other family reunion better."

"Me too," she says and again sounds like she actually means it. "I'm sorry. But I won't fight you today. I don't want to." She takes a step back, her posture loosening up. "I know you can still... not kill. You can."

"Jesus, Cass." He lets himself match her, giving her space and letting himself slump into a more comfortable stance. He doesn't _feel_ any less wary though. "I don't know what makes you think you're gonna get anything from this. You don't even _know_ me."

"You're my... younger brother. Right?"

He looks away. Suddenly, he's not quite sure just what to do with that. "You've got some real unrealistic expectations from me, sis." He's sure as hell not actually going to back down and start sparing assholes now. "You're just gonna be disappointed."

She frowns up at him, shaking her head slowly, and opens her mouth to speak.

A _thump_ interrupts her, somewhere behind her.

Jason curses his inattention--stupid, _stupid_ , she's not even in costume--and he's already reaching for one of his guns at his side, when the shadow speaks and _Jason recognizes that voice_. "Bat-- Cass! You're back, we... We couldn't get a hold of you, not even Oracle could--"

Cassandra blinks, but otherwise doesn't look startled as she interrupts him. "Nightwing," she says, voice thoughtful and definitely _way too calm for this_. "I thought you weren't... in Gotham."

"I kinda wasn't." He hears a sigh, followed by footsteps, and as Nightwing steps off the ledge and into the light in the balcony, Jason gets his first good look at him.

He looks rough. Even with the mask, like not even he can remember the last time he got some sleep. It's. New. Definitely. He remembers Nightwing always looking so put together when Jason was Robin, confident and in control (And effortlessly handsome, but he quickly shoves away the thought. He's not fifteen years old anymore), even when he'd just been arguing with Bruce.

Now? _Something's_ up.

Not that he should care, he reminds himself firmly. Nightwing's got nothing to do with the whole Joker fiasco, but he's the number one follower of Bruce's shitty-ass rules anyway.

The thing about finally seeing someone who'd been in the dark though?

Nightwing chooses just then to spot Jason and, halfway through gesturing at Cass, he stops, eyes widening and jaw slackening.

Then he steps in front of Cass and Jason could just laugh. "Red Hood," Nightwing growls out and it'd be a lot more menacing, if he didn't look like he was two steps away from falling over.

"That's me, getting a visit from Nightwing himself. I'm just _so_ honored."

Fuck. He really had been hoping not to run into any of the other Bats just yet.

"What do you want with..." He trails off, glancing sidelong at Cass. Aw, of course. He doesn't know they know each other.

"What do I want with _Cass_?" Jason even manages to smirk as he asks, completely ignoring the _look_ Cass gives him. The dickhead's reaction is enough to help him find his balance again, like he's wrested back some control in the conversation. Nightwing's actually _wary_ of him now, after everything that happened when he went after Bruce and the Joker. _Wary_. "We were just talking. Things we got in common and all."

"And what are those?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. Right, Cass?"

Cassandra blinks, then shakes her head slowly. "I'm okay, Nightwing. He won't try to hurt me," she says, grasping what he was getting at.

"Excuse me if I don't really believe that right now. You _know_ who he is, right?"

"Yeah. What he did was... wrong." (Jason rolls his eyes.) "But he won't hurt me."

"I'm not looking to fight either of you right now, Wonder Boy. Hell, you don't gotta deal with me. I think we're done talking anyway. But if you really wanna reschedule for a fight, who am I to deny you, huh?"

Nightwing presses his lips together and, oh, he's never gotten this kind of reaction from him before. "Batman thought you were dead."

"Again," Jason says and thinks he manages a good enough job at not sounding _too_ bitter. "Hell of a coincidence. I thought you were dead, too. Bludhaven looked _pre_ tty bad, after all."

That strikes a nerve. Nightwing takes in a sharp breath, then a step forward.

Cass frowns, but doesn't quite look at Jason, just eyes Nightwing.

"It's got nothing to do with you, Hood," Nightwing says. "It's over with."

"Sure is, if you're here. How long it'd take for--"

" _Hood_."

"Jason."

Jason snaps his mouth shut, clenching his jaw, when the both of them speak.

Great. Whatever. No point if Nightwing's not willing to bite anyway.

"Nightwing," Cass says, breaking the silence that follows. "Why were you looking for me? I thought Batman wasn't... here right now." At the _look_ he gives her, no doubt at Jason's continued presence, she goes on, "It's okay."

Nightwing glances at Jason, mouth tight, then turns back to look at Cassandra. "We didn't know where you were. We were worried about you," he explains. "But he's not. And I'm only saying that in front of _him_ because it's obvious. After that Justice League mess, he stayed with them for a while cleaning it all up. Robin, too."

Jason huffs. Nightwing glances at him, then completely ignores him.

Asshole.

"It was that bad." Nightwing shifts on his feet. "But he's coming back now. Figures Gotham needs him."

"Yeah, especially with how mad the _other_ League is with him right now," Jason can't help himself from saying.

"Yeah..." Nightwing begins, slowly. "I know. Figures you do, too. _How?_ " The look he gives Jason then is questioning, suspicious, but nah.

He's not explaining shit about anything Talia told him right now. So he only shrugs, giving him a lopsided smile.

Nightwing probably rolls his eyes behind the lenses of his mask then, judging by the look he gives Jason. "I don't have details yet, but we're looking into it. Don't tell me you're trying to help."

"Ehhh, no. I think you know better than anyone me and Bats ain't exactly getting along right now."

"Hell of an understatement," he thinks he hears Nightwing mutter under his breath and the look he gives Jason this time tells him that. Yeah. He's not very happy with him either.

Whatever. He's obviously worn out his welcome here. Typical, really. Nightwing'll yell at Bruce all day, but the second someone else so much at looks at him wrong, they're on his shitlist.

"Yeah, yeah." Jason raises a hand in a mock salute and takes a step backward. " _So_ nice seeing the two of you, but I really gotta go now."

"Hood--"

"Bye bye, Dickie!" Definitely, definitely time to circle back to another safe house.

"Don't forget!" Cass calls out to him, as he takes another step back from their little meeting.

"Not agreeing to anything!" he calls back, leaving her and a still baffled-looking Nightwing behind when he takes the last step before his back hits the railing and _leaps_ off.

Well, he sure feels better now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, people actually... met now? Ha...ha... I've spent so long editing this chapter I think I've forgotten half of it already.
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♥


	3. right in the heart of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am. So late!! I've had a lot going on irl and I got stuck on this chapter for a bit, sorry guys. And I also, uh, absolutely did not mean to post this on mother's day lmfao.
> 
> But I have to confess. I was... so wrong, haha. I am _so sorry_ , but this story has gotten away from me and will definitely be more than five chapters lol. Hopefully just a couple more, but I'm reworking my outline now and should have the actual number by the next time I update.
> 
> In any case though, thank you to everyone who's read, left kudos, or commented so far! You're all absolutely lovely.

The Bats do all come back.

It's just a matter of days till he's hearing all about how Batman and the replacement have got Gotham's underworld running scared again, even more than usual after their absence. It's the same amount of time it takes Jason to get back to running his thing here and putting the fear of the Red Hood back into the city's scum and drug pushers.

So it's just a matter of days until there's no way Bruce doesn't already know Jason survived that explosion. From rumors about the Red Hood, at the very least, or maybe from those cameras he keeps sticking all over the city, which he doesn't even really try to avoid overly much. And that's if Dick hasn't sold him out to the guy already.

He's kind of hoping _Cass_ is continuing not to say anything about him to Bruce.

Kind of.

Honestly, he's got no clue what she's up to. He hears about Batman and the replacement, hears about Nightwing, and even manages to catch a glimpse of the latter one or two times, before he _very carefully_ slips out of his sight, but Batgirl? As far as he can tell, not a peep from Gotham's underworld since she ran off to Bludhaven, then disappeared from that city, too.

And Bludhaven, well. No one's really going to be hanging around there anytime soon.

Jason gives it a few more days, just a few more to try to get a feel on whether Batgirl's flown the coop again or she's being stealthy and someone _has_ seen her somewhere. But as they go by, one thing becomes clearer and clearer: if she is still in Gotham, Batgirl's doing a damn good job of staying hidden this time.

Then again, he realizes suddenly, on his way back to his current safe house one morning. She wasn't in costume the last couple times he saw her.

Right.

And he could just let it go. They met. He knows now, she knows now. There's nothing else to say. She's made her feelings on his methods so clear, it might be in his best interest to avoid her for a while. Hell, she only said she'd _think_ about staying in Gotham, so this might all be useless. She might actually have ditched the city and run off somewhere else entirely. There really might be no point. But...

But she's still the sister he never knew he had, still the only other person with even an inkling of what Shiva's intentions may be.

Still the only other family he's got left.

It's with that in mind that he sets off the next night, as soon as the sun's gone down. He doesn't have a clear destination in mind, can't even begin to imagine _where_ she'll be if she's not on patrol, but it doesn't matter. What he's looking for isn't necessarily Cassandra herself, though that'd be a nice bonus.

It's information.

One way or another, he'll at least have an idea what her decision was in the end.

Which. Turns out to be a hell of a lot harder than he expected. He _doesn't_ find her or any trace of her that night, not in any of the rooftops they spoke on before, not even in the places he remembers as prime Bat surveillance territory. And the few goons out on the street he stops to... _question_ don't have a fucking clue where Batgirl could be, which is just. Typical, really. It fucking figures.

So he slinks back to his safe house in the early hours of the morning with nothing, nada, _zilch_ to show for it.

Then she finds _him_ the next evening, because his life's one big cosmic fucking joke.

"Batman saw you," she whispers, just as Jason's making to leave an alleyway.

And he absolutely, definitely doesn't jump about a foot in the air.

Not at all.

" _What_?" He whirls around to find Cass perched on the bottom rung of a fire escape, out of costume _again_.

"Survei... Cameras," she answers, easy as you please. "He saw you on the cameras. And one of his. Um. Snitches. He said you were asking about Batgirl."

And yeah, that was. That was always a risk. Hell, it's not like he even tried to hide from any cameras. Kind of funny that one of the guys he picked was a snitch though.

"So Batman knows," he says carefully. Then clarifies, "That I was looking for you."

"Yeah."

"He know why?"

"Don't think so." She purses her lips, expression thoughtful. "Not yet."

Jason frowns. _Yet_ , huh? "You're telling him?"

She shrugs. "No. He's... a detective. He'll... figure out one of the reasons. He. Ummm. About my mom. He was figuring it out. Before I knew." She frowns down at him, tilting her head. Then she's leaping off the fire escape--like the fucking inhuman meta she _has_ to be, he swears to fucking god--landing a few paces ahead of him.

"But... I don't know the other reason."

And that's just the thing, isn't it? They've already done the meeting by coincidence thing. They've already had their argument, Cass' ultimatum. He can't just play this off. But... "You disappeared," he makes himself say, makes himself not look away. "Figured I'd check if you had skipped town, after all." He gives her a significant look. "Or if Batgirl's skipped town and Cassandra hasn't. Sounds like the kind of thing I'd wanna know, y'know? And." He taps his chin. "You did say we'd talk later."

"Yeah, but... Even when I said I'd stop you?"

Jason shrugs. "Let's just say I just _had_ to know." Turns out Bruce has rubbed off on him more than he'd necessarily like to admit. Even to the girl who keeps figuring him out somehow.

The look Cass gives him is skeptical for all of a second or two, before her expression clears. "Oh."

"So do I get to find out?"

She bites her lip, silent for a moment. "I decided to... stay. But I still have to... think. A lot. After... what happened with Shiva, I still don't know if I should..." She trails off, shaking her head.

"What?" he asks and very carefully does not stop to question why everything about what she's saying just screams _bad_. "Still kick bad guys in the face? Wear a creepy mask? Wear a creepy _bat_ mask?" He swallows. "...Still be Batgirl?"

She clenches her fists. "Yes. I don't know if I still can."

Jesus. " _Why_? Okay, I think I get the whole leaving Gotham thing from before. But if you're staying, why? Cause you nearly killed Shiva? Cause _you_ nearly died?" He pauses, a sudden suspicion creeping into his mind. "Cause you know where you came from now?"

"No. Cain was already..." She sighs loudly, the closest thing to exasperation Jason's seen from her since meeting her. "It's not... because of who Shiva is." And because there is absolutely no fucking way this girl's a regular fucking human, she locks eyes with him and goes on, "Or you."

"Then what is it?" he asks, immediately trying to push what she just said out of his mind.

" _Everything_. I... was never gonna kill again. But I had to try, with. With Shiva." Cass shrugs, helpless. "I _had to_. So I... have to make sure. Never again."

"Shiva's not exactly a normal fucking case, y'know, Cass?"

"None of them."

"What?"

"None of them are... normal cases. It doesn't matter. I have to be... better. Perfect. So I don't have to do that."

Perfect. Jesus, what kind of number did Shiva play on her? "Or maybe you realize sometimes that's the only thing you can do. And it's a real fuckin' nice deterrent, too."

And if Jason thought Cass actually looked exasperated before, she actually looks _annoyed_ now, brow furrowed and lips turned down in a frown so deep it'd look right at home on Bruce. "So... you'd fight her? To, to the death."

And that's. Probably a question he should have expected.

But. _Shit_.

"She's stronger than I am," is all he ends up saying, though he's more than aware it's not exactly an answer to the question. He can't even muster up any kind of emotion at the admission. It is what it is, has been a constant from the very second he met her. Shiva's stronger than Jason, can kick his ass without breaking a sweat. And he can't change that just yet.

( _Yet_ , he hopes.)

Cass doesn't call him out on not giving her a straight answer. Instead, she narrows her eyes at him, that strange, studying look about her again.

"Oh."

"Here's something I didn't ask you before," he cuts in, before Cass can say anything about whatever she thinks she's figured out. "You fought her. Why?"

"I had to."

"Yeah," he drawls. "Why?"

And it still feels... strange. To be asking her these things so candidly. But, fuck, she's been mostly honest so far, hasn't she? Hasn't even seemed to mind telling him anything. It'd be stupid as hell to pass this up.

"She... didn't give me a choice. She said a lot of things and. I think what she wants from me is... to be able to kill her."

_What_?

"Hold up, what the _fuck_. She _said_ that?"

Jesus fucking Christ, okay. Good to know Shiva's still firmly under 'deranged killer' through and through.

"Yes." The look she gives him then is... strange, somewhere between thoughtful and concerned. "I don't know about..."

_You_?

He waves a hand before she can finish that sentence. He's not sure he wants to hear it anyway. "And she said that and... Then what? Came at you trying to kill you."

Cass nods. "So... I had no choice. I had to fight her. With... everything. Because she did, too."

Jason shakes his head. Right, okay. Fine. He can file away Shiva making her own fucking killers for later. "So that made it okay? Killing? Cause, y'know, you did I say I can't kill either."

Cass frowns. "No. I said I had to make sure that... it can't happen again. And you shouldn't either. You can't."

"And I already said you're just gonna be disappointed," he points out. "You're not changing my mind."

And that obviously wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. Her reaction though? That clench to her jaw's all Shiva. (And all _Jason_ , he realizes with a start.)

And. Well. Creepy.

"Then... you won't change mine either."

Jason almost smiles. Can't say he didn't expect that. "You really wanna go over this again? 'Cause I don't know about you, but I think you made what you thought _pretty_ clear last time."

Slowly, Cassandra shakes her head. "I... don't, but..." She bites her lip. "How many people? Since last time?"

Oh, he _does_ smile this time, although a small one. "You're in luck. Haven't run into any of the real scum lately. Just a buncha' useless lowlifes."

"Then... later. If you had..."

He waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah, save it. I should go anyway. Nice talkin' to you."

"What? You're leaving? Already?"

And, yeah, okay. It's a little hasty, sooner than he really wants to cut things short, sure, but he found out what he wanted. And he's kinda trying to avoid the whole killing lecture here again.

"What, don't want me to go now?"

"I... don't think you want to. No. I'm sure..."

And that. Yeah, that freaky thing of hers.

He sighs. "Hey, Cass?" he asks, and waits for her to frown up at him before continuing. "Is it totally fucking insensitive to ask what kinda meta powers you've got?"

Cass blinks. "What?"

Jason resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Shit, what is he even doing? This is a delicate fucking topic, to say the least. What if she doesn't even want to talk about it? "Your powers," he says slowly. "You keep doing... _things_ that are, like. God, you know what I mean."

He can tell the moment she realizes what he's getting at, when her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. "Oh. No, I..." She shakes her head. "I'm not a meta."

"Seriously? How?" he asks. And instantly regrets it. No, no, no, wasn't he supposed to be delicate about this?

( _Can_ he even be delicate about fucking anything?)

But Cass only looks thoughtful. "It's... a long story. But I learned how to read... body language? And I've been, um, training. Since I was really little." She looks up at him again, something unhappy about her expression. "So that's why I can do... what I do. Not because..."

Jason sighs. "Not because you're a meta. Shit..." He rubs the back of his neck, but makes himself still look at her as he says, "Sorry. That was... Shit, shit, it wasn't any of my business anyway, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I can tell... a lot of things about you. So... it's okay to ask."

"Right. Right, that's _real_ nice, but I'm still sorry I asked. Hell, I really do wanna go now this time. So if you'll excuse me..." He turns to leave, before he can go and stick his foot in it even more, but.

But.

"Jason," she says suddenly, and when Jason turns back to face her, she's not quite looking at him.

"Hm?"

"He... knows you're alive."

Bruce? Fuck, no shit he knows Jason's alive. He thought they'd already established this. "Yeah? I know."

Cass does look fully up at him now, an expression Jason can't quite identify on her face. "And he's... sad?"

_What_?

"Cass..." he begins, because no. Fuck no, no. He is not dealing with this.

"He's sad when he talks about you," she goes on, undeterred. "Or... thinks about you. I can tell. When we talked about you, before, too. He was always... sad and..."

" _Jesus Christ_ , Cass," he interrupts and is only a little surprised to find he's breathing harder than usual. "I _really_ don't wanna hear it right now, Cassandra. He already told me all I freakin' needed to hear. I don't care how _sad_ he is right now, he coulda..." With one last angry huff, he trails off.

Fuck. He coulda what? Fixed things? Given him a pity pat on the back and shot the freaking Joker?

Actually shown he ever fucking cared?

He doesn't know. But he can't think about this right now. He just fucking _can't_.

"Jason..." Cass starts.

"I gotta go," he says abruptly and turns away again. With a sideways glance, he goes on, "You can lecture and threaten to knock me into next week next time, okay?"

She doesn't answer. And, as he leaves, he doesn't turn back to look at her.

-

He's not sure just _what_ mood he's in by the time he makes it back to his safe house. Complicated. Is complicated a fucking mood?

Fuck. Whatever. Doesn't matter. It should change shit-all, it _does_ change shit-all. He's got things to do, people to deal with, and Bruce is the absolute last person he needs to be thinking about, no matter how fucking _sad_ Cassandra says he is.

Jason snorts as he pulls open the bedroom's window from the inside. Sad. Bruce is fucking _sad_.

He fucking should be, after everything. After he as much as spit in Jason's face when he came back to the city. He should regret it, should be the one to come crawling back to Jason. He should, he _should_.

_Sad_. He better fucking be.

Jesus, what do any of them take him for?

Jason hauls himself halfway out the window, one leg in, one out, and fumbles to light a cigarette.

_Sad_ his ass, he fumes, taking a drag of his cigarette.

Why should he care about Bruce's precious feelings right now? Did he care about Jason's? Hell no.

So he doesn't care. He absolutely, definitely doesn't.

In the end, he's not sure how long exactly he sits there, barely seeing the lights of the street below his window. But he's breathing heavily, leaning forward on his perch on the window, when the sound of a generic text tone rings out across the bedroom.

He straightens up and glances back inside just in time to see the display on one of the phones he left on the nightstand blink off. He recognizes which one it is immediately: the smartphone Talia finally convinced him to get before he fucked off from her 'care.' Or. The one he got himself after dumping the one Talia gave him. Because like hell he was going to make it _easier_ for her to track him.

Not like he uses it for much more than checking whatever email she's sent him, barely even takes it out of whatever safe house he's using. Burner phones work just as well for anything else he needs. But it's useful to keep around.

He doesn't exactly _trust_ Talia, not for anything more than pure business, but it's not like her deep pockets don't come in handy every once in a while.

He takes in a deep breath, stubs out his cigarette on the ash tray he keeps by the window, and drops back down into the room, rolling his shoulders.

Fine, whatever. He can do this. Bruce doesn't deserve him freaking _brooding_ over him.

He's crossed the room in just a few steps, scooped up the phone in another, and when he unlocks the phone, it's. Surprise surprise. An email from Talia.

Now what could she possibly want this time? She hasn't contacted him since before he came back to Gotham.

_J-_

_1\. Disappointed to hear about events in Gotham. Do take care._

_2\. Expect a call from LS soon. Was most insistent about speaking to you._

_3\. ' Soon' likely means shortly after you read this message. If timing is correct._

_-T_

What?

Slowly, Jason puts the phone back down. He drops down heavily onto the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, and it's another moment before his brain clicks back into action. Then it all hits him at once.

Oh.

_LS_. Who else do both he and Talia know with those initials? Shiva. Fucking Shiva wants to talk to him now?

This has to be some kind of joke. It just has to. What is it? Speak, or even just think, of a failed parental figure and another one pops up again to mock him? Haven't they all found someone else to harass for a while?

Why now anyway? Shouldn't Shiva still be recovering from her fight with Cass or something?

(Stupid question, stupid, stupid. He knows what the Lazarus Pits are capable of. She was probably back up and running around in no time.)

His fingers itch to light another cigarette, maybe go up to the roof this time till he feels less like someone's trying to freaking drown him.

The same phone rings again before he can think through anything.

He blinks, stares at it on the nightstand for one ring, two, three, four... And reaches out and answers it halfway through the fifth.

"Yeah?"

" _Yes, it's very nice to hear your voice as well._ "

Whatever he's feeling when he hears Shiva's voice now, for the first time since before she up and ditched him up in the freaking frozen north, he can't figure out.

Complicated. Complicated probably works this time, too.

"What do you want?" he manages to ask, even manages to keep his voice steady.

" _Why, to speak to you, of course._ Did _I truly miss your revenge in Gotham? Do tell me about it._ "

There's that mocking edge to her voice again and, oh hell, he sure hasn't missed that.

He grits his teeth. "I bet you already know exactly what happened. What do you really want?"

A low chuckle comes through across the line and. No. No, he sure as hell didn't miss that either. Absolutely not.

" _It was an acceptable start. You did well enough establishing yourself in the city. Your base was and is... Adequate, I suppose. But your execution near the end, and the fact he yet lives..._ " She doesn't finish that sentence. Frankly, he's got not interest in hearing whatever it was, particularly when he can't tell if _he_ is supposed to mean Bruce or the Joker.

"Jesus, what is this, a freakin' evaluation?" he snaps. "I don't remember signing up for one."

" _A kindness, Jason. Not everyone will hold_ affection," she says, the word dripping with disdain, " _for you the way Batman does._ "

Jason grips the fabric of his pants tightly with his free hand. "Lady, there's no freakin' affection lost there."

" _And that's why he's yet to try to arrest you? I_ have _had dealings with him before._ "

And he can just picture that stupid smile on her face, mocking every little thing he's even thought of saying.

"So tell me. Did you _hold affection_ for Cassandra when you fought her? Is it affection that gets her to try to kill you?" he demands, heated, just to get her to shut up.

She laughs, full out _laughs_ , nothing like the couple times she actually did it while she was training him. Somehow, the sound's just as infuriating as that half-smile of hers.

" _I'm very proud of your sister for what she did. It was only what I asked of her. It's only a shame you can't claim the same level of success just yet._ "

And that? Jesus Christ, that? He can't breathe.

It's like a punch to the gut, knocking all the air out of him.

But. No. No. He _doesn't care_. He doesn't.

"What do you want?"

" _Oh, to say hello, to offer some advice, some motivation. Does it matter? I've already said all I wished to._ "

Wait. Is she implying what he thinks she is? Seriously? She thinks she can just call him, throw out a few one liners, and metaphorically run? "Hold on, what was even the point of--"

" _Goodbye for now, Jason,_ " she says, as if she were only commenting on the weather.

And the line goes dead.

Slowly, he pulls the phone away from his ear, into his eyesight, and sure enough. She's hung up.

Great. Fuck. Great. Just great.

He's gotta get a new phone now.

-

Batgirl's just as scarce over the next few days and, honestly, after that call from Shiva he doesn't really fucking feel like talking to anyone. So he lets it lie, figures she's still doing whatever _thinking_ she's gotta do. Jason doesn't go back to the safe house Nightwing found him and Cass in and Bruce doesn't seem to _do_ anything about it. If he even knows about it. (Not that he's trusting him _not_ to know. Cass might not say anything, but he can't say the same about Nightwing.)

And things go back to... not quite the same as before he confronted Bruce, but closer to that. Less "Batman is probably going to actively hunt the Red Hood down," more "Just don't let Batman or his cronies see you." And that's something. Probably.

It leaves them at a strange kind of stalemate and Jason is _absolutely not_ thinking about what Cassandra told him about Bruce. Not. At. All. Not while he's still figuring himself and his goals out.

The others besides Batman are easier to deal with anyway. The Replacement's back from Bludhaven and pretty blatantly avoiding the Red Hood and Nightwing's... also back from Bludhaven. And still looking a little like _shit_.

Oh, he's doing just fine against the usual scum of Gotham. Judging by the usual rumors and the few times Jason manages to _just_ avoid running into him, he's doing as well as usual. So he's fine, really. As long as no one looks at him up close, like that night with Cass on his old safe house's balcony.

And as long as the observer isn't one who spent _hours_ studying his fighting style as a teenager (and covertly staring at him every chance he got, but who's fucking counting here?). There's nothing strictly _wrong_ with it now, nothing that couldn't be explained away by the gap in years, but there's just something _off_ about it, something... He doesn't know. More intense? Angrier?

Whatever. It's not something he can really figure out while avoiding Nightwing, and _not_ avoiding Nightwing isn't exactly on the cards while he's still reporting back to Batman. Which is always, thank you very much.

Still, it is an interesting set of rumors that follows him from Bludhaven, and Jason'll be damned if he doesn't keep an ear out for every little thing that could be helpful while he's in Gotham.

It's mostly what he expects at first. How Bludhaven went down in the Crisis, how many people managed to flood into Gotham before things got too bad, just what he'd expect to hear after something that catastrophic hits a city. But then the rumors about _Nightwing_ himself start trickling in. And don't they just paint a story?

A little before the Red Hood knocks their heads together, one Gotham goon whispers to his friend how he heard from his buddy in Bludhaven that Nightwing'd already as much as disappeared before the city went to hell, how he'd been acting just a little... _off_ even before that. Angry.

Another whispers that when Nightwing disappeared was just a little before the big guy in Bludhaven, Roland Desmond, aka Blockbuster, had been found dead. And that's. Interesting. _Real_ fucking interesting.

He's not sorry to hear the guy's dead, not in the slightest. Hell, from what he's heard about the guy, he's sure Nightwing's time in Bludhaven would've just been _oodles_ easier if someone'd offed the guy sooner. Guys like him don't stay locked up, no, they don't even _get_ locked up in the first place. And he can just imagine how much Nightwing must have struggled with the guy.

But dying so suddenly? Interesting.

Oh, Jason has no doubt that however Blockbuster died, Nightwing didn't do it. A guy like him wouldn't just go against everything the Bat's taught him just like that. But he's real fucking curious as to just what Blockbuster's death and Nightwing's little vacation have to do with each other. Because if there's one thing it doesn't take a freaking genius to figure out it's that Nightwing wouldn't just abandon "his" city like that when a guy like Blockbuster's running around. Or when a guy like Blockbuster's _not_ running around anymore, as it were.

Whatever.

It's not exactly something he can figure out himself, not with so many people who were around that whole thing dead or. Well. Nightwing. But it's something to keep in mind, a new mystery to unravel when he's got the chance.

He isn't exactly picky right now though. He'll settle for something to keep Nightwing off his back for a while, if he absolutely has to resort to that. _If_. He's been pretty good at avoiding what he's beginning to figure out are Wonder Boy's usual haunts now in Gotham and he's got no intention of changing that.

It's just too fucking bad he doesn't know where the guy spends his _daylight_ hours.

And that Jason actually does bother to go out during his own daylight hours.

He's minding his own business one afternoon, waiting for the barista to call out his name (so he likes a good coffee shop and can actually afford a stupid overpriced coffee every now and then, sue him), when he sees him.

Another name gets called and Jason looks up out of habit, caution more than anything. And freezes.

Because there's Richard fucking Grayson, picking up his own stupid overpriced coffee and.

Great. Great great great. This _would_ happen to Jason.

Jason takes a step back, letting his eyes wander away from him almost as quickly as he spots him, and weighs whether it'd be easier to avoid the guy, bluff his way through it, or. What? Turn tail and run? He definitely should have planned for this kind of thing.

Not that it fucking matters. Not when Dick looks up just then and _right_ at Jason, because nothing can fucking go right for him anymore. Not a single thing.

He can tell the exact moment down to the second when Dick notices him, just as he's pulling away from the counter, from the way his hand visibly tightens around his cup, the way his lips press together in a thin line.

Great, he's gotta handle this now.

So he lets his mouth quirk up in a smirk and silently raises a hand in a half-assed wave. It's not much of a response at all, really, but it's enough to get Dick to react, his features twisting into a scowl.

Nice.

Dick crosses the distance between them, to the corner Jason's got his back against, and he manages to just about glimpse a flash of blue eyes behind those sunglasses before he's right up in his space, and _goddamn_. He'd forgotten how fast the guy could be.

"What are you doing here?" Dick whispers harshly, quiet enough for no one around them to overhear--one guy glances up at them at the movement, then turns his attention back to his phone, unconcerned--loud enough to _really_ remind Jason that Dick's not happy with him.

And. Okay. He can work with this.

Jason focuses on a spot just above Dick's shoulder when he says, "Same thing you are, Dickie. Blowing my cash on some shitty coffee and trying real hard not to get yelled at here by concerned citizens."

" _You_? I don't know if you've noticed, but--"

Jason hears his name called out then and, smoothly as he can, sidesteps out of Dick's reach. "So it was real great seeing you, Dickie," he says over his shoulder, cheerful, perfectly insincere. "But that's me, so..."

He doesn't bother to finish the sentence. He just grabs his drink off the counter, even makes sure to smile at the barista, then turns right back around and out the door.

It's just his luck, again, that Dick follows him out, at a brisk pace to catch up with Jason's longer strides.

" _Jason_."

"You're making a scene, Dickie," he says, singsong, without looking back or bothering to slow his steps. Half a block later, when it's clear Dick isn't going to stop following him, or even say anything else, he goes on, "Look. Whatever you've got in that head of yours can probably wait, you know? I ain't looking to fight you right now."

"Didn't say you were," Dick says, sounding real close by now. "But I'm sure I don't need to tell you why I'm not so happy about letting you run around here."

Jason sighs and, abruptly, stops and turns on his heel, fast enough that he can tell Dick just barely avoids running into his chest.

And now, Jason _does_ let himself actually _look_ at Dick, in broad daylight for the first time in years and he's. Honestly not sure what he's expecting.

Yeah. His first impression's not too far off from the one some nights ago. It's still him. Still the stupidly perfect face, the stupidly perfect hair, and stupidly perfect golden skin, but Dick looks _tired_ , ridiculous bags under his eyes those sunglasses can't hide at all.

What the hell happened to him in Bludhaven?

"What exactly am I gonna do, Wonder Boy?" he asks instead, letting his voice take on a mocking edge. He holds up his cup. "Off someone with a latte?"

Dick huffs and glares up at him. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Jason hums noncommittally in answer, taking a sip of his drink.

It only seems to make Dick frown all the more and he shakes his head. "You went on a literal fucking rampage across the city just weeks ago," he grits out. "And you think I'm just coming after you because you bought coffee?"

"Well. No," Jason says easily, much more easily than he really feels right now. _Rampage_ his ass. "I guess you could just have wanted to talk to me, too. It _has_ been a while, hasn't it, Dickie? Missed me that much?"

As if.

_Something_ crosses Dick's expression though, something he can't quite figure out with the stupid sunglasses in the way. But something about it's enough to get Jason to regret every single word he's said in his life, ever, and Dick opening his mouth to speak just clinches it. "We all missed you," he says slowly, as if he were spelling something out to someone particularly stupid.

Ha. Yeah. Sure. Bruce already proved how much any of them missed him. "Sure."

"You don't believe me," Dick says and draws himself up. The sunglasses slip just slightly down his nose--not a bad fucking look on him, he's almost ashamed to admit to himself--letting Jason _really_ see that scowl forming on his face. "Of course we missed you, Jason. What did you _think_ , that--"

"I _think_ ," Jason says over him and, oh, he's not smiling anymore. Not even to get under Dick's skin. "That I've already seen how much any of you ever missed me." He takes a step back, a little grateful, in the back of his head, for how dead this neighborhood usually is around this time. "But whatever," he goes on with a shrug. "It was my own damn fault."

" _Jesus_ , Jason, you can't compare that. What kind of welcome were you even expecting when you burst back into the city guns blazing that way?" His voice is harsh, his posture even more so, but he doesn't raise his voice as much as Jason would have expected. But probably should have. Dick wouldn't run the risk of anyone overhearing him. "You were dead, as far as any of us knew. Dead one second, then going around killing every drug lord in the city. We didn't even know..." Dick cuts himself off with a sigh and runs his free hand through his hair, about two seconds away from yanking some of it out, by Jason's estimation. " _How_ are you alive?"

And that's still not really a question he wants to answer in any kind of detail, but. "Luck," he says simply, eyes on his cup.

Against his better judgment, he looks up again when Dick doesn't answer and finds him staring at Jason, with an expression he can only describe as uncomprehending.

"Excuse me, what?"

The corner of Jason's mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. It _is_ kind of funny. "That's all you're getting from me now, Goldie. What's it they say... Don't resurrect and tell?"

And it's even funnier, really. Seeing something actually almost startle a smile out of Nightwing him-fucking-self. "That was terrible, it doesn't even make sense" he says weakly.

"I'll be here all week. Don't come looking for me."

Dick glances up at him over the top of his glasses. And he's definitely picked up that tilt to his head, the one that makes Jason feel like he's being studied under a microscope, from Cass. "It's probably not too late, Jason. If you're still mad at B, _go_ to him. Believe it or not, he's actually still willing to _talk_ to you. Whatever you think you're doing, just. Stop taking it out on the city."

Well, that little moment didn't last long.

"Taking it out on the city?" Jason laughs, humorless, spreading his arms. "I'm fucking helping this city the way _you're_ all too cowardly to do. I'm... Hell! I'm helping save this city!"

Dick steps forward. " _Save_ this city. Running the city's drug trade, _killing_? You think any of that's what B taught you?"

"What B _taught_ me means shit-all if it doesn't work, Dick. And it's useless to try to tell him that." He narrows his eyes, feeling himself scowl enough to match Dick. "And to tell you, too, I guess. Always the loyal little soldier, aren't you? Daddy's favorite and number one bootlicker."

"Or maybe you're the one who's refusing to listen to reason. What kind of endgame are you going for with this? Just what do you think's going to happen? We're all going to come around and agree with you?" Dick's jaw clenches. "You're gonna kill B and take over?"

Huh. Good question. Wasn't he just asking himself what his endgame even was? Killing Bruce is probably exactly what Shiva would tell him to do, if she were the motherly advice type in the first place. (And isn't that just a laughable thought?) Actually doing it?

He can't think about it too hard. Working a miracle and getting all the Batbrats to agree with him might actually be easier.

To hell with what Shiva would want him to do anyway. He can't think about that too hard either.

"I think," Jason says softly, focusing on what he can make out of his reflection in Dick's sunglasses. "I'm gonna do what I have to. No matter what."

Dick nods, short and curt, his expression turning even unhappier. Really, he'd been expecting _angrier_. "You keep doing this, you know we have to stop you, right? And we will."

"I know," he agrees easily, though he can hear the blood roaring in his ears, has to clench his free hand to keep it from shaking. He expected this. It shouldn't bother him. If anyone was going to say something like this, of course it'd be Dick. He expected this. "Maybe later though. Street's empty right now, but we'll have ourselves a good audience if you try anything."

At that, Dick clenches his jaw so hard Jason's actually momentarily concerned for his teeth.

"And you sure as hell won't anyway. Not at any point," Jason finishes, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Don't count on it." And Dick's giving him that _look_ again, that creepy studying look he's getting real tired of. And, really, it coming from someone who's clearly unhappy with Jason doesn't make it any less creepy. "Whatever kind of bigshot you think you are now doesn't change anything."

"Oh, I don't know. I think it changes a lot. I _know_ I can do this. All that's gonna change is how many of you get in my way."

"No matter which one of us it is?"

And it's easy to answer, easy to fire off a quick "Nope," at Dick. He can even make it sound sincere, unconcerned. But there's that _swoop_ to his stomach when he replays the confrontation with Batman in Crime Alley. When he thinks, again, of going up against his own sister. Fuck, even against Dick. It's not like he actually fucking dislikes the guy.

(Or like old feelings get buried that easily, but he is _not thinking about that_.)

Shit.

"Why are you even in Gotham?" Dick asks, the edge of frustration to his voice all the more obvious now. "It had to be _this_ city you came back to?"

And really. Really. Dick expects him to just leave the city now? Never come back? "I'm more from Gotham than you are, Dick. I can be here all I want." And because it's been on his mind, because he just can't help himself, he asks, "Why are _you_ here? Blockbuster scare you that much? So much that you came running back after you couldn't stay in Bludhaven?"

Dick's expression immediately closes off.

That rings more than a few alarm bells in Jason's head. No closer to figuring out this little mystery though.

But there's the anger again, with that scowl back on Dick's face. "Watch yourself, Jason. If you keep this up, _we'll_ have to do what we have to."

Yeah, okay, he blatantly ignored Jason's question. He was kind of expecting that. Not like it was exactly asked in good faith.

Then Dick's turning on his heel and walking briskly away from him.

Jason watches him go in silence, doesn't try to call him back, doesn't say anything in farewell.

He raises his cup to his lips, takes another sip. And grimaces.

Shit. It's gotten cold already.

Fucking figures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and have a nice weekend! ♥
> 
> Find me on [tumblr](http://bleakeisland.tumblr.com) if you want!


	4. can't forget me not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaccidentally left some brackets in from when I was still editing. Sorry about that, they're gone now!

He can't get him out of his head.

He's there, creeping into his thoughts whenever he's too idle, whenever he lets his thoughts wander too far, whenever he thinks too hard about the last few days.

And that's. Fine. It's fine. He should be analyzing what happened, refining whatever scraps of plans he's got so far, whatever he's gotta do to keep himself ahead of the rest of the Bats. He figures it'll pass soon enough and he'll go back to business as usual.

So it's fine. Totally, completely, absolutely fine. Except.

Jason doesn't.

He gives it a few days, goes about what's fast becoming his routine in Gotham--or as close to a routine as the Red Hood can get--but it's no fucking use. That dickhead's freaking _taking over_. Or fuck, not even just him. Jason keeps replaying when he ran into Dick, everything he said, even the way he fucking _looked_ at him and _Jesus_.

 _They'll_ do what they have to, he said. What _they_ have to, as if he were so fucking sure he'd be in the right there. As if he were talking about just another one of the assholes who make up Gotham's scum. Nothing at all like how Cassandra confronted him.

And if that isn't just the most infuriating thing.

Oh, he's not the best person around, far from it. Jason's not about to deny that. But he's doing something _necessary_ , something this miserable city's been sorely lacking under the Bat. And if fewer people have to turn out the way he did? And if fewer kids have to go through everything he did? If he can put an end to the worst of the worst in this city?

All he's got to do to achieve it will be fucking worth it.

He stubs out his cigarette where he's perched on his window again and leans back against the window frame, eyes on the middle distance, on the building next door.

Stupid. Fucking stupid. That he's spending this much time dwelling on it, that he's even giving any real thought to this, rather than shrugging it off and going on his way.

Jesus, why should it even come as a surprise anyway? No one's more loyal to Batman than Nightwing. Hell, he probably got off lucky running into him like that, when the asshole _couldn't_ actually do anything but talk big. It's just typical, really. Just.

Jason stops. And grimaces. Oh. No. He can see this for what it is. He's still not that stupid. It's still way painfully fucking obvious.

And he sure as hell doesn't like it. Because one stupid chance meeting and it's like being a teenager all over again, Dick constantly on the mind. Overanalyzing every little thing the bastard said to him, wondering just when he'll run into him. And just how pathetic is it that he falls into this again so easily and so quickly?

Christ, at least he's not having any stupid daydreams about their next meeting this time. Small mercies and all that.

Is this all it takes then, meeting him one on one, without Cass as a buffer between them, for him to turn fucking stupid over the guy again? When it's been so fucking long? When he should be over this already, over this stupid teenage infatuation?

He scoffs. _Stupid_ , hell no. He has to be over this, he just freaking has to. He's just... _Fixated_ doesn't sound much better, frankly. But it's preferable here, because he'll be damned if he actually even lets the actual thought cross his mind.

God, he needs another cigarette.

What would Shiva think if she could see him now, if she knew that he's--shit, what _should_ he even call it?--a little attached to one of the fucking Bats? (To more than one of them? But that's yet another thought to roughly shove away.) He can practically hear her voice, cutting, mocking him over such an ill-advised attachment as this. And enjoying every damn second of it.

Then again, isn't that just the _other_ thought he's been trying not to obsess over? That one thought that makes turning his meeting with Dick over and over and over in his mind actually seem preferable?

Because she did do just that already, didn't she? When she just had to contact him to bring up how he failed with Bruce? What other reason could there have been?

God, it's pathetic, really. _He's_ pathetic.

And, frankly, it leaves him a bit at a loss. Or more than a bit, far more than he's really comfortable with here or, fuck, at any time.

He's got something going here, plenty of work to do. A mission of his own he's fashioning. But it's just not freaking good enough for any of them, is it? Too much for Bruce and his freaking brood. Too little for Shiva, who'd probably actually congratulate him if he did go and off Bruce. Hell, maybe even throw him some assassin party, who even knows.

Too much for his sister to even speak to him without mentioning ultimatums.

And that? That's yet another issue. Cass. If anyone can even begin to figure out why the hell Shiva's really calling him, whether just to gloat or what the fuck ever, it's gotta be Cass, right? Batman may be the World's Greatest Detective, but he's not exactly Lady Shiva's "I had you so you could kill me" kid, is he? That's unique enough to offer its own perspective, probably.

Though it's not like Jason can really claim that title, and whatever nebulous understanding comes with it, himself.

Because honestly, if Shiva had Cass as some kind of, what, failsafe--though a failsafe for _what_ beyond killing Shiva for vague reasons he can't even begin to figure out--where's Jason come in? Was he supposed to be another failsafe? Some kind of backup? Or just an accident?

Shit, he's not sure he wants to know the answer. Fuck Shiva anyway, why's it even matter _why_ she had him? She still dumped him with Willis and Sheila, still wasn't really much better than the rest of them.

What's she even done for him after giving birth to him anyway? Help sharpen his fighting skills? Big fucking whoop.

(Been one of the best damn teachers he's ever had is what she's done, if not in personality then in the sheer fucking skill she imparted on him, but who the hell's checking?)

But whatever. She runs off, harasses Cass for a while, then comes back and harasses him. Totally family bonding, right? Big sis even gets the extra time.

Big sis, who's probably creeping up there with Nightwing and Batman on the list of people he really _shouldn't_ contact though. If he's real honest with himself, he can acknowledge he got lucky she didn't try to make good on her ultimatum the last time they spoke, took him at his word about not having killed anyone recently and declared it good enough for the moment. Like she _wanted_ to give him a chance.

That'd be damned ridiculous though, especially when he's got every intention of squandering that "chance."

There is _one_ person who's probably got an idea what's up though, if even Cassandra doesn't. And he's got a couple pretty easy ways to contact her.

The question is just whether it'd be worth it to talk to her about this when she's already withheld information from him on this topic. With no damned reason to help him with _this_ , who's to say she's not still doing it or that she won't do it again?

Jason drops back down onto the floor, shedding his jacket as he does so. He leaves the window open, drapes the jacket over the back of his desk chair, and moves to set his hands down on the desk itself.

His phones are only yards away. It'd be easy. He could take one of them, call her, ask, hang up. No fuss, if he's lucky.

If he's unlucky, well. Isn't he always?

He taps his fingertips against the desk, feeling a little like he's in a staring contest with his phones. And he lasts all of a handful of seconds that way, before he just can't fucking stand it anymore. He picks up _that_ particular phone and retreats back to the window, where he opens one of the only contacts he's got on it, barely looking at the screen as he dials. For this, he's not bothering with an email. If Talia can give Shiva his number, she can deal with him calling one of her permanent numbers.

Talia answers on the first ring.

" _Jason. What a... surprise,_ " she says by way of greeting, sounding a little like she forgot to pretend to sound surprised halfway through the sentence.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, I'll bet."

Talia hums, unconcerned by his tone. " _To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you tonight? Has there been trouble?_ "

"Uh. Yeah? Fuck yeah there's been trouble. It might sound familiar." Jason leans back against the window frame, takes a deep breath. Fuck, all right. He's got this. "Stop me if you've heard this one before, but giving a mutual acquaintance of ours my phone number? That ring a bell?"

" _Somewhat._ " And she's definitely smiling now. Because everyone in his life's nothing but predictable now, apparently, when it comes to inconveniencing him. _"I wasn't aware that would be a problem. You do change your phone numbers quite often, Jason. At worst, I imagined it'd be little more than a moment's inconvenience._ " And here her voice turns... different, just a touch searching. " _I thought you'd be glad to speak to your mother._ "

Jason flinches. It's the first time Talia calls their relationship what it is straight out. And still just one of the very few times _anyone_ beside him's acknowledged it out loud at that. "Not exactly," he settles for answering, clenching his free hand into a fist. "I'm sure you can figure out why."

" _Is that so?_ " she asks. " _I suppose you're calling to tell me I shouldn't have, then?_ "

"Would you even listen to me?"

" _She asked me for a way to contact you_ ," Talia goes on, unconcerned. " _I thought it needlessly cruel to deny a mother the chance to speak to her son. I can't imagine wanting to speak to my child and being denied..._ "

And that's. He knows what she's doing. He knows what she's going on about, what she's not so subtly trying to get at here.

The memories are hard to reach, distant at best, like water sliding through his fingers. But he remembers just where and with _who_ Talia spent whatever time she wasn't out or looking after him in Ra's' compound. And he has an idea of where she'd often be while he was going from teacher to teacher.

Yeah, he sees what she's doing. But just what is he supposed to take it as? Some sort of warning not to tell Bruce? ('Cause he's not exactly got any intention of telling him much of anything.) Or some attempt to make him feel sympathy for Shiva? ( _Sympathy_ for _Shiva_?)

He has no idea.

"Uh huh... But I dunno. She hasn't exactly been _wanting_ to talk to me all these years. What changed?"

" _Oh, who am I to understand anything she's thinking?_ " He hears a breath over the line and, when she speaks again, there's a new weight to her voice. " _I suppose what changed is that she met you. And perhaps... she wanted an update on you, after learning of your plans._ "

"I don't exactly remember telling her about any of 'em."

" _She has her ways._ " Talia sighs. " _If it's truly such a bother, I'll refrain from giving her your next number. Though you must know if she ever wanted to, she would find it on her own regardless._ "

"I figured," Jason mumbles. He lets his eyes wander to the street below again, to the occasional car down the quiet side street. He's beginning to wonder if there was really any point in asking Talia about this. "Just..." And he tries not to let his frustration show, but he can hear it creeping into his tone, clipping his words short. "An update on me?" he asks, actually allowing himself to think about that suggestion now. "Do you have any idea what she's playing at? Because I _know_ about her run in with my... my sister. I don't know if I want any part of her freakin' check-ins."

Talia's silent for a moment. " _Ah, yes._ My _sister was also there._ " She pauses again, letting him absorb that particular tidbit. " _No, I cannot say I know exactly what she's planning. But if I were to venture a guess, I would say her reasons for finding both you and your sister must be similar._ "

"But she's--"

" _But_ ," she interrupts him, somehow, infuriatingly smooth. " _There really is little else I know of any of her intentions. And, at the moment, I'm much more interested in how you and the rest of our acquaintances in Gotham are faring._ "

Fuck no. She knows as much as she needs to about this already, thanks. More than fucking enough.

His finger hovers over his phone screen, ready to end the call right then and there, when he remembers that, hell. Isn't she avoiding certain talk of one of their mutual _acquaintances_ , too.

He swallows and ventures to ask, "Yeah? So that mean you still pissed at him or not?"

She laughs, a soft huff of breath.

He has no idea what it's supposed to mean.

But it's all he's getting, apparently, as she goes on to say, " _I'll contact you later, Jason_ ," and hangs up.

Fucking great.

-

And the thing is. The thing is?

Creepy-ass calls or not, at least he can avoid Shiva pretty damn easily. _She_ ditched _him_ , after all, to go back to whatever it is she actually does when she's not fighting people to the death. If she even regularly does anything besides that, who the fuck knows with her. Point is, she's not anywhere near him.

And as far as he can tell, she's not the type to stay in one place for long. So there's no way she'd stay for long in Gotham, even if she did decide to drop by for a visit.

The Bats though are a whole 'nother story. They're _all over_ the city and, yeah. He knew that already. He'd already been doing pretty well for himself avoiding them, as far as he's concerned, but. Well. He _had_ been.

Then he had the bad luck to run into one Richard Grayson while he wasn't even suited up, in broad daylight, and that kind of. Totally burst his illusions about being able to avoid them as long as he wants.

This is the _Bats'_ city. And Jason may be doing his best to wrest as much control as he can from them right now, but fact is it's _been_ their city for a good long while now--he should know, seeing as he was one of them once.

It's becoming increasingly clear he can't avoid them forever. And not just out in the nighttime streets.

He's just gotta what? Actually decide what to do if he runs into one of them again? If, god fucking forbid, he runs into the Replacement?

At least he knows one more place where he shouldn't go during the daylight hours now, and during which daylight hours at that. Though, hell, maybe he should avoid that neighborhood at all times now. He wouldn't put it past Dickhead Grayson to show up at different hours just to catch up to him, if he _really_ wanted to bring Jason in to Bruce.

Not that he really knows what the hell Dick was trying to accomplish following him that day. Yeah, yeah, something about a _rampage_ across Gotham, something about going back to Bruce, and some _bullshit_ about having missed him, which was just. Sure. _Sure_ , he can go peddle that shit to someone else.

Because Dick had to have known that none of that would go anywhere, that just a few snarled words out on the street wouldn't have Jason crawling and crying back to Bruce. He couldn't have possibly been that stupidly hopeful. Unless... Hell, unless he's being just like Cassandra, just as hopelessly optimistic, or. Whatever she's doing, honestly, whatever's given her the impression she just _might_ get him to act how she wants, get him to go and throw his lot back in with Batman or whatever. He can't say he's really figured out how she works yet or what she's hoping to accomplish.

(Some kind of hope they can be _some_ kind of family? Because he's... not thinking about that.)

Shit. Yeah. Actually, that does sound just like Dick.

That just figures, doesn't it? No matter how he tries to act, he's still just as much of an optimistic idiot as he's ever been.

And an optimistic idiot the world doesn't have the decency to let him avoid at that, even when he _makes plans_. Because of course he should have counted on sheer dumb luck once a-fucking-gain.

It's just some mid-level crook masquerading as a society fixture this time, just some guy that's been subtle enough he might not be on Nightwing's radar just yet, much less Batman's. But _this_ particular guy's had his people dealing drugs to kids and that? That puts him on the Red Hood's radar.

And it should be a simple thing, break in, find the guy's office, maybe leave the guy restrained to deal with later while he looks through his stuff, come out with some info on how to blow the guy's operation. Maybe drop the guy off a pier somewhere. That'd be a satifsying end. But it's just when he's rooting through the guy's stuff, while the guy himself is knocked out in his bedroom, that he hears a soft thud outside the window.

Fuck.

Jason freezes and, slowly, very slowly, he straightens up, eyes finding the glass of the closed _penthouse window_.

The person on the other side, perched just on the windowsill, stares right back at him.

Oh.

 _Fuck_.

If he needed even more evidence that his life is one big cosmic freaking joke, there's Nightwing on the other side of that window.

At least his coffee won't go cold this time.

Nightwing's fingers find the outside latch quickly enough and before Jason can try to inch right back out the door, Nightwing's pulling the window open and clambering right in. Way more gracefully than any human really has the right to clamber in a window at that, landing lightly on his feet and straightening up to face Jason.

Jason spares a moment to be glad he's wearing his helmet, because fuck whatever face he's making at Dick right now. This just cannot. Possibly. Be. Happening.

They stare at each other in silence for another moment, something utterly dumbfounded in Dick's expression. Then he shakes his head roughly and takes a step forward, one hand half reaching out and.

"What the hell?" Dick manages to ask, letting his hand drop back down to his side, as if he just realized he even had it up. He looks a little like he hasn't quite remembered to be angry at Jason yet, brow furrowed behind that mask and lips parted in surprise. "Why are you even here?"

"Why are _you_ even here?" Jason fires right back. Then winces. He was one of the clever Robins, wasn't he?

"This is part of my case."

"Hell no, this is _my_ case? Shouldn't you be off taking down some kingpin for the big ol' scary Bat?"

"Uh. No." And there it is again. Like flipping a switch, Dick _finally_ seems to remember just who he's talking to. "What the hell, Hood?" he repeats, harsher this time. "How do you end up here the same day I do? How do you even end up _here_? On a _case_? I thought you were too busy playing at drug lord to take on any cases."

"By following the trail of who's messing with freakin' kids in _my_ city?" Jason snaps, completely ignoring that crack about taking on a case, because, no. No. It's only been a freaking week since the last time he saw Dick, he's not up for the lectures and _boohoo I missed you come back to Bruce and everything will be hunky-dory_ bull again. "How do you end up here? Like I said, don't you have some more important cases to deal with?"

" _Your_ city," Dick repeats, ignoring everything else he said. "So it's yours now?"

"Still more mine than yours." Jason grins, to hell with the fact that Dick can't even see that with the helmet on. "And you bet your ass it is when I'm the only one who does what's needed."

Dick definitely, absolutely rolls his eyes at him then. He can tell even with the lenses blocking out his eyes. "So you've told me. I still don't agree, no matter how you try to dress it up."

"'Cause you've bought B's shit hook, line, and sinker, that's why."

Dick eyes him. "Should I even have this argument with you if you're not willing to listen? Because I can still try."

"Save your breath, Wonder Boy. Maybe use that time to take that nap you've been sorely needing." And it's probably low-hanging fruit by now, judging by how long this has been going on, but damn if Jason can't help himself.

And that's a glare, yep. Definitely a glare, wordless at that, directed at him. Honestly, this part of it all isn't so bad. He kind of wishes he could just enjoy riling Dick up like this, without ultimatums and what the fuck ever hanging over him.

"So," Jason prompts, when Dick seems content to just attempt to glare him out of existence. "How's this your case again? 'Cause I'm kinda about to take it from you here."

"This guy, Callaway, he's one of B's _society friends_ ," Dick says, almost grudgingly. But it _is_ gratifying to hear how those words drip with disdain even when coming from the Golden Boy here. And it's disdain that isn't even directed at Jason this time. "B's been suspecting he's not on the up and up for a while. Sent me to confirm some evidence."

"Of course he sent you," Jason mutters, because _fuck_. When doesn't he do what Bruce says? And there's just something about him being here on Bruce's orders that just makes it all worse.

Dick bristles. "Yeah," he says, borderline defensive. "Because we actually know how to work as a _team_. Something it looks like you've forgotten. Among a hell of a lot of other things."

And that's rich, really. Real rich coming from him, who spent the entire time Jason was Robin cycling between being at Batman's beck and call and spending all his time arguing with Bruce. Real fucking rich.

"Real sweet of you to be concerned about my memory," he says instead, sugary sweet. "I hear dying fucks with it, you know? But I'm fine, I remember it all."

Dick scowls, going oddly rigid, and that's. An interesting reaction. Was it calling him sweet that did it? Would that really be enough to get him pissed at Jason all over again?

(Was it reminding him he died?)

But he's not examining it that hard, he's not pulling on this particular thread too much.

So, "Goodness, all considered, you're awfully calm about finding me here if you're on B's orders," he says instead. Sarcasm, sarcasm works here. "Haven't even tried to drag me back to the Cave yet."

"Give me some time. You haven't done anything _yet_ tonight." Dick blows out a breath, shrugging off whatever that was, and cocks his head at him. Jason can just about picture him narrowing his eyes at him then. "Callaway's still alive, isn't he?" he asks, like the answer better be yes or he really will consider dragging him back to the Cave.

Jason shrugs. "Taking a nap in the hallway. Kinda thought I'd blow out his kneecaps later," he adds cheerfully.

Dick purses his lips, but doesn't rise to the bait this time. Instead, he brushes past Jason to the other side of the desk, tapping his fingers against the open laptop at the edge of it.

"Yeah, see, I was gonna check that next," Jason says, letting the file folder in his hands slip through his fingers and onto the surface of the desk.

"Uh huh," Dick mumbles.

And Jason lets him rifle through whatever the hell it is he's going through. Because he may not have all the info he needs yet, but Dick doesn't need to know that. It's not like Dick would delete anything on the guy's computer anyway. Anything Jason needs will still be there once he's done and, hell, maybe he'll even be able to piggyback off whatever he finds. He's not exactly opposed to that.

"Are you done here?" Dick asks when Jason doesn't move from the side of the desk. "Or are you _really_ gonna wait for me to drag you back?"

More confidently than he really feels, he ask, "You really gonna do that? Drag me back to the Batcave instead of turning me in?" He shrugs. He can handle this. "You were serious with that _not too late_ shit? All for Daddy?"

Dick stares at him. And ducks his head to look at the laptop screen, very studiously not looking at Jason. "He wouldn't want you in jail," is all he says, terse, as his fingers fly over the keyboard.

"What about you?" Jason isn't sure just what answer he's hoping for here.

Dick doesn't lift his head. "If you've got what you need," he says. "I'll take care of Callaway."

And isn't that an answer on its own?

"I don't know if prison's really the place for him either, y'know. Maybe I should just take care of him for good."

"No," is all Dick says, then seems to fully turn his attention to the computer, Jason out of sight and out of mind. If that were even possible for Dick.

He waits another moment, then moves to stand behind Dick as he goes through the computer, noting just how _tense_ his back is.

It's still kind of funny. He doesn't remember him ever being like this when Jason was Robin. Just another piece in the puzzle of _what the hell is going on with Nightwing?_

He shifts on his feet, resting his hands on his hips. He does still remember the reaction he got at mentioning Blockbuster last time and, frankly, much as he still wants to grab what he needs, run, and go back to avoiding Dick as much as he can--maybe take a break to rile him up every here and there--he can't help but but keep poking at it, trying to get some idea of just what the hell is going on there. Went on there. Whatever.

Not that he's under any illusions about finding out easily. Like hell Dick would answer if he asked.

And like hell he'd want to stick around for a long conversation if he _did_ answer.

"You can stop staring, you know," Dick says softly, not looking back at him.

"Wow, Nightwing really does have eyes in the back of his head," he says lightly, but doesn't really look away. (Did Dick notice every time he stared _before_ , too?) "Real impressive, Boy Wonder. Does it work against bad guys, too? Or just devilishly handsome and dashing guys like me?"

Dick spares him a flat, unimpressed look over his shoulder, then turns back to the screen. "What do you want, Hood?"

"Oh, not much. A safer Gotham, you assholes all off my ass, the Joker _dead_..."

Dick's back, if anything, only tenses even more. He pretends to have his attention focused on the computer as he does so, but he can see his fingers are unmoving, tightly clenched together on top of the keyboard. "I don't think you really want the Joker dead," Dick says carefully.

Oh.

Really? _Really_?

This time, he thinks faintly, it's like a switch flipped in _him_.

" _Yeah_?" Jason breathes out, forcing himself to hold still. "Yeah, sure. Yeah! I totally, definitely want that psychopath running around. Yeah, that's what I want. You fucking got me there."

Dick still doesn't look back at him and honestly. _Honestly_? That just gets his blood boiling.

" _Well?_ " he prompts, when Dick just keeps, shit, whatever he's doing, pretending to look at something on the laptop screen and completely ignoring Jason? "That really what you think? I should just want the guy to live, because, hell, what's a little murder, right?!"

Dick sighs, barely audible. Something about the sound makes his teeth itch.

"No, Hood," he tells him, voice as soft as his sigh. His clenched hands shake on the keyboard. "I _think_ I can't understand how you feel, especially about the Joker. But I also _think_ you probably won't feel how you think you will if he's dead. I _think_ there's a good reason we don't kill."

Jason's breath comes a little more rapidly, just a little shallower, as he clenches and unclenches his hands.

Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? Where does he, where does Dick fucking Grayson even get off trying to sell this bullshit to him? What'll he feel once, _once_ not if, the Joker's dead? Fucking satisfaction, that's what. Satisfaction.

"What?" He laughs, humorless, and takes a step forward, brings himself just a hair's breadth away from Dick's back now. "You think I'll what? Feel buyer's remorse once he's dead? _How_? You think I feel even an ounce of regret for the bastards I've already killed? Cause they all deserved it!" His voice grows louder with every word, almost without him even realizing it, and _fuck_. He can't even begin to care. Who the fuck cares if it brings whoever Callaway's got squirreled away in his penthouse down on their heads? Who even fucking cares?

Because this is what they do now, apparently. Argue in the middle penthouses of belonging to Bruce's socialite acquaintances turned crooks, while Dick goes off on his self-righteous useless bullshit. Because Dick's just _so_. _So_ fucking caught up in all this bullshit, Bruce's bullshit mission, like it hasn't just fucked him up irreparably, too.

(But fuck, if anyone were able to avoid that little catch, it'd be the Golden Boy, wouldn't it?)

Yeah. Perfect fucking sense to do this.

"I _think_ ," Dick repeats through gritted teeth, like the broken fucking record he's turning into. Slowly, he pushes the laptop shut, stops even pretending to pay attention to it. "The Joker being dead won't really give you anything you want. It's not going to fix things between you and--"

"Things are already pretty fucking unfixable there, Goldie," he yells and only realizes _after_ he's done it how much he's raised his voice. And, fine. Fine. Better fucking hope Callaway really was alone in his place. "Maybe you missed it, running away from Bludhaven and all," he goes on and _that's_ a low blow, low enough he can even spare half a second to feel just a smidgen guilty when Dick actually flinches, before he pushes it out of his mind. "But he chose _him_. He fucking chose _him_." He tugs at the top of his body armor, peeking out from his jacket, and _wishes_ he could make himself physically turn Dick around to see. "And I got the freakin' scar to prove it."

Dick slams his hands on the desk. And fuck if it isn't satisfying. That? That's good, that's a fucking reaction, a sign he's actually listening to him, not just sitting there all nice and cushy and _fuck_.

"He'd never really pick the Joker over you and you _know_ it, he's not--"

"--But he fucking did. I don't care what the hell you have to tell yourself about him, but he _did_. And he could've fucking killed me when he did." And he's got half a mind to just turn right back the fuck around and leave. Just shoot Callaway on his way out and wash his hands of this mess, maybe actually be serious about avoiding Nightwing--why the hell does he even give a shit about the guy, Jesus--this time. But his feet stay rooted to the floor, he can't take his eyes off Nightwing's back. "What the hell do you care anyway? _Missed_ me?" he scoffs. "Like you ever gave a shit about what the Joker did anyway. You never gave a shit about your miserable fucking replacement. You weren't even there after, were you?"

If life were just a little more dramatic, he thinks he'd hear something snap now.

Dick whirls around then, his cheeks flushed and _something_ to the set of his mouth, the entire air around him, that Jason doesn't recognize. "I _hated_ him for it," he snaps. Jason's heart skips a beat. "For what he did to you. For never facing any consequences for it. I hated him so much and I hated--" He cuts himself off, slicing a hand through the air. And there's something frantic about his movements now, something else Jason doesn't recognize. "Don't think I didn't give a shit, how could I not?!"

Jason was wrong. He was wrong. He does recognize this, from when he was Robin, when Dick would fight with Bruce. He recognizes this from the worst of the fights, the ones Jason wasn't supposed to overhear, where Alfred would sometimes intervene. The ones where Dick would stomp off right back to New York and none of them would see hide or hair or even hear anything from his for months on end.

He recognizes this.

But he's never caught more than a fleeting glimpse of it, never had it directed at _him_.

He's not sure what to do with it.

"Real big talk," he grunts. "Goes real nice with all your _come back to us we miss you_ shit, don't it? He tell ya to try that?"

Dick lets out a breathless sound that might have once passed for a laugh. As it is, the sound's just uncomfortable. "You think I'm lying to you. Is that what you want? Tell yourself I'm _lying_ to you so you can go on doing whatever the hell you want in the city and feel _justified_?!"

"Or maybe, hell, just fucking maybe, you're just saying all this to make _yourself_ feel better. Sure makes it easy to throw out ultimatums left and right if you just tell yourself _I did the best I could, I told him to come back_. Doesn't it?! 'Cause you can't admit you fucked up."

He sees Dick slam a hand against the desk again, sees him open his mouth. But he doesn't hear his answer to that.

There's a bang somewhere behind Jason. Dick freezes. Heart in his mouth, Jason turns around, pressing his back against the desk.

And there's the source of the noise. A slight figure at the still half-open window, dark hair spilling out of her raised hood and dark, familiar eyes peeking out at Jason.

Ah.

Speaking of ultimatums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I can explain_. This chapter ending is really not as dramatic as it probably seems. Probably. It just got longer than I wanted lol
> 
> Anyway, I'm still alive here's the next chapter! And a full expected chapter count! ~~If I don't go off the rails again.~~ Thank you so much to everyone who's been reading/commenting/leaving kudos. You're all still absolutely lovely.
> 
> And thank you for reading! ♥


	5. show me something, anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Jason probably thinks too damn fucking much.

In the startled silence that falls over them, Jason realizes for the first time just how hard he's breathing. How it takes him a moment before he can get a full breath again.

And fuck. _Hold it together_.

One quick step to the side, and he's where he can see both Dick and their visitor at the same time. He catches sight of Dick's chest rising and falling just as quickly, sees him slipping past Jason to move closer to the window.

"Batgirl...?" he hears Dick say, tentative, and snaps back to attention as it finally clicks.

Yeah, it's her, all right.

And sure. Great, why not? It's a freaking party.

Except. It's not exactly Batgirl who's joining the shindig. It's Cassandra, of all people, who slips in through the window. Still not in costume, but in a black hoodie with the hood drawn up this time, she drops down into the office, lifts her head to look at them both and. Freezes.

Eyes widening slightly, she stares at them both in silence, and shit. Shit, shit, shit, _wait_. She's got that body language thing of hers, doesn't she? Can she tell they were just arguing? Can she tell _what_ they were arguing about? Because he ain't exactly looking to rehash it all in front of her, thank you.

He chances a glance at Dick, notices him suddenly stiffen as he looks at her and, oh fuck. He's gotta know about her body language thing, too, right? Probably just how good she is at it, too.

"...Cass," Dick says slowly, the quake to his voice _almost_ perfectly hidden, sounding _almost_ like he and Jason hadn't just been yelling at each other. "Not that it's not great to see you, but what are you doing here? Did something happen?"

"I was looking for you, I didn't know you were both..."

Jason bites the inside of his cheek, noting how Cassandra just trails off, still glancing between him and Dick.

He really doesn't want to know just what she's seeing in them or how much she might or might not be able to put together.

And he's got no intention of finding out right now either, at least not while Dick's around. Because if there's anyone he doesn't need looking right through him it's Richard Grayson.

But he can take care of that.

He takes a deep breath, pushes past the _something_ still churning in his gut, the itch just under his skin, and goes for something that comes easily enough he doesn't even need to think too hard about it.

He deflects.

"Damn, looking for Nightwing? So no one invited me to the party." Jason pipes up, putting on his best mock wounded voice, a hand to his heart. Much as that hand would rather be making a fist right now, this much is easy enough, right? "I can't believe you're making me crash this party, guys. Jesus, I bet you don't even have any drinks..."

Dick frowns, and completely ignores him. But some of the tension drains out of his shoulders at that, and he looks a little less like he's about to start swinging, like he's finally setting aside whatever _that_ was for the moment. (Not exactly the reaction he was going for, with how _Jason_ still hasn't forgotten it.) "How'd you find us?" he asks, directing the question at Cass. "I don't think I told anyone but B where I was going tonight. You're not even on patrol for now."

Cassandra blinks slowly, shaking her head, and mercifully seems to stop her study of them. Instead, she steps forward, stopping a few paces away from them. "You have a tracker," she answers, matter-of-fact. "On your suit. Oracle told me where to find you."

And so much for Dick looking calmer. At the mention of Oracle, his shoulders immediately tense again. "Yeah, yeah, right. Of course," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I have one I hadn't found yet, why not..."

"Uh," Jason says, raising a hand. Yeah, not dealing with this. "Okay. Great. Oracle send you to find him then? Cause I'm pretty damn sure she's not even in Gotham right now?" He certainly hasn't seen her the whole time he's been here. And that... could be bad.

He eyes Cass carefully. "You supposed to find me, too, while you're at it? This your idea of an intervention?" Should he say to hell with it and barrel straight past them and out the window, Callaway be damned? Because he's kind of feeling more than a little ready to end this night already.

Cass shakes her head. "No, I was going to find... you. _And_ Nightwing. Umm. Not at the same time," she clarifies, shifting on her feet. "Later. Not on the same night."

"Huh, two for one. So it's just happy coincidences all around then, ain't it?"

Dick ignores him again. "What's going on? Is B in trouble--"

"No," Cass interrupts him. "It's not about Batman, it's about..." She bites her lip. "Something else. You're the only other one who's talked to... Jason. Red Hood." And in a manner of speaking, she's probably right. He doesn't really want to think about talking to Bruce right now. "I thought he could... He's... Um. He could help." She raises her head, eyes finding Jason again. "Something happened."

Slowly, Jason nods. "Yeah," he drawls. "I can tell. So you thought if you couldn't find me... Maybe _he_ could find me?"

Cass nods.

Dick glances at him, quick, just a split second, then asks her, "What happened?" his voice much gentler than he's heard it all night.

"Shiva," she breathes, and Jason's heart skips a beat at the name. "She talked to me. Today."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Well.

"Oh," he says, lamely. Good to know his call from Mom wasn't unique, he thinks distantly. "She call you, too? Say happy birthday or something?"

(He realizes he doesn't actually know when her birthday is. And with all that time in the Batcave, she might just know _his_.)

Cass smiles, just a little. "It's not my birthday." The smile melts away. "But she did. You too? Because I don't know how... I haven't had my phone for long..."

He props a hand on his hip, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Talia's got her ways."

"Oh." Cass blinks, realization dawning in her eyes. He remembers, suddenly, Talia mentioning that Cass had met her sister. "I... see. But why would Talia--"

"Wait," Dick interrupts, holding up a hand. He looks from Cass to Jason, and from Jason to Cass. "What does Shiva have to do with the Red Hood?"

Oh. Shit. Right, Dick hasn't had the decency to just clear out for their conversation. And Cassandra _keeps talking_ in front of him.

"Funny story, 'Wing. But not really important right now."

"I think I'll be the judge of that."

Hell no. If Dick finds out, how long will it be until Bruce knows? He doesn't even care just how close Bruce is to figuring it out himself, he's not giving him anything that'll make it easier. Hell, he's not finding out because of _him_. No, the longer Bruce doesn't know, the better, as far as he cares. "Jesus, Nightwing," he says, as put upon as he can manage to sound. "We met a while back, she taught me a thing or two, we never saw each other again. Nothing else to say."

"You're not exactly reassuring me it's not--"

"He's my brother," Cass says abruptly. She stands up straighter, head held high. "Shiva's his mom, too."

Cat's outta the bag.

Stupid as it sounds even in his head, he _is_ suddenly sure they could hear a pin drop in the silence that falls over them.

" _What_?"

Jason sighs, surprising himself. And just doing that when faced with _all of this_ feels more than a little surreal. But they're doing this. He can't stop to have _feelings_ about this. They're telling Dick about it and by this time tomorrow Bruce will know everything and--

Dick speaks up again before Jason can finish that thought, before he can even begin to formulate a response, before Cass even says anything, his voice nothing short of bewildered. "I'm sorry, I think I'm missing something here." Dick glances between the two of them. "Shiva's your _mother_? Since when? I thought your mother was..." Abruptly, the blood drains from his face, his words coming out slower, as if he's only just realizing what he's saying. "Ms Haywood..."

The name feels a little like Dick socked him right in the solar plexus. Then maybe kicked him for good measure.

"She was my stepmother, I guess. And she wasn't around that long anyway," he says quietly, slowly, every word feeling grudging, like he's dragging it out. He doesn't actually want to talk about this with Wonder Boy, thanks, Cass.

It's the first time he's ever called Sheila that, the first time he's even acknowledged her out loud since that day. And it's... strange. It feels strange on his tongue, it feels strange for his lips to form the word, kind of like they should be forming another one instead. The title doesn't even begin to fit her anyway, doesn't quite feel enough. In the same way he can't think of Catherine as anything but _his mom_. But.

That's another train of thought that's best cut off early.

There's a reason he hasn't let himself think much about Sheila since coming back.

Dick stares at him. "Jesus Christ, you're actually serious."

And what Jason wouldn't give to see his expression now without the mask. It'd sure make a nice change from whatever he was trying to convey before Cass showed up.

And a nice distraction.

Jason can only shrug in answer though, tearing his eyes away from Dick. "Not really something I'd joke about. It'd be kinda'..."

"Fucked up?" Dick asks, voice rising in pitch.

"It's already pretty damn fucked up, Goldie."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cass smother a smile that looks more like it's been startled out of her.

Huh. It's good to know they can _both_ have a sense of humor about this mess. Even if he's not feeling it right now.

Dick lets out a long, slow breath, and another, in a way Jason recognizes from the breathing exercises Bruce taught the both of them.

Fast enough he isn't sure he didn't just imagine the change in the first place, Dick seems to come back to himself and relax again. _Seems_ , because Jason's not freaking blind.

There's still something about him, something about the way he moves, that tells Jason that anger from before is still there, just tightly leashed. The half-hearted smile he flashes at Cass then isn't enough to hide it.

And that's interesting, something to file away for later. Jason's not sure why he's even bothering though. Dick has to know Cass sees right through him, too.

And now that he isn't still visibly reeling from finding out about Shiva, Dick doesn't quite look directly at Jason again, just in his general direction.

That's probably another sign he's still mad.

"Let me get this straight." Dick crosses his arms, leaning against the desk. "Shiva's your _birth mother_. Both of you. And she's calling you over the phone?" He worries his bottom lip, looking away for a moment, before back at them. He still doesn't look directly at Jason. "Why?"

Cassandra furrows her brow, seeming to think her answer over, thoughtful girl that she is, but Jason just can't keep himself from cutting in and saying, "Well, Boy Wonder, when two people have an affair and they're not real careful about it..."

The look on Dick's face, even partially obscured by the mask, is so fucking gratifying. After everything, after yet another attempt at selling him Bruce's bullshit, after seeing him try to bounce back so fast in front of Cass, it is so fucking satisfying to remember he _is_ still human. He isn't as much of the perfect fucking Golden Boy as everyone seems to think, not even him.

Dick waves a hand. "I got that much. Why did she call you? She doesn't exactly strike me as the 'call to check in on the kids' type."

Jason laughs, surprising even himself. _Call to check in on the kids_ , Jesus. "Your guess is as good mine." He glances at Cassandra, who instantly sobers. "She didn't say much when she talked to me. What'd she say to you?"

She draws an audible breath.

"It, um, didn't make a lot of sense." She frowns, giving them both a sideways look from under her hood. "First she said she was proud of me. For... when we last fought."

And yeah, Jason thinks, biting back a scoff. That much sounds familiar. Sounds an awful lot like what she said to _him_ about Cass.

"She said she was looking forward to... seeing what I did... next. And seeing me again."

Wait. Jason blinks. Does that mean...

He can't quite remember how to breathe for a moment. "You planning on visiting her any time soon?" he asks faintly.

She bites her lip. "No."

"It sound to anyone else like she's planning on coming here?" Dick chimes in, more or less mirroring Jason's own thoughts and reminding him that yes, he is still here and, yes, he does know now.

And Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ, he might actually be right. But why the fuck would she even come to Gotham, she never does unless--

"She's usually planning to fight someone when she does these things," he hears himself say.

"I don't know if she meant me, but," Cass says softly, tugging lightly on her hood. _But she probably is_ goes unsaid. "But I wanted to talk to you... before Batman. Because you know her, too." She jerks her thumb behind her, at the window. "I wasn't sure where you were tonight, so I thought maybe..."

"Maybe I'd be able to help you," Dick prompts, dry.

She smiles slightly. "You're the only other one who's talked to him."

Just for a moment, Jason considers asking if she knows about the other time they ran into each other, but the urge passes quickly enough. No fucking thank you.

"We ain't exactly getting along that well right now," he says instead, because it's a nice distraction from Shiva coming to Gotham _and_ however many times he and Dick may have run into each other.

Dick doesn't react, but Cass tilts her head at him, seeing who knows what in him. Frankly, he doesn't think that's ever gonna stop being creepy, sister or no. "But you could..." She trails off, staring at him, but soon shakes her head and lets whatever that was go. "It was my best choice."

"It's fine, Cass," Dick says on a sigh. "I get why you came to the both of us. Timing's weird, but I get it."

Unfortunately, Jason does get it, too. Much as he'd prefer to keep it in Shiva's family, so to speak, Jason and his rotten luck keep finding Dick anyway. Should have fucking expected this.

"So, what? You wanna beat 'er to the punch? Wanna go into hiding? Or just wanna commi--"

Jason cuts himself off, a distant sound reaching his ears. At Cass' questioning look, he holds up a hand, jerking his head in the general direction of the _rest_ of the penthouse.

He can tell the exact moment the other two hear it, too, at the same time that he can finally make out just what it is. A muffled yell from the general direction of Callaway's bedroom.

Ah.

"Rise and shine," Jason mutters, one hand creeping down to the holster at his hip. "Guess the party's over for us, guys," he says cheerfully, turning to face the door. "But if you let me take care of this, we can go to the afterparty."

"Hood," Dick starts, reaching out to grab his shoulder. And though he hesitates--freezes, tenses, what the fuck ever--Jason lets him. He lets himself get turned around to face Dick, who's looking at him now with an expression somewhere between exasperated and wary and _fuck_. Dick's actually looking at him again. Does he win points for that?

"Hood," Dick says again, firmer. There's something uncomfortable to his voice that Jason doesn't want to examine too closely. Something closer to _we all missed you_. "Leave Callaway to us. You don't have to do something you'll regret."

Jason doesn't answer immediately. He can't, when the words won't even form in his mind. His shoulder tingles where Dick is touching it, through the layers of clothing and body armor as if they weren't even there.

"You can just walk away from this tonight," Dick goes on.

Listening to him, it's like being back out on that sidewalk again, emotions he can't even remember rushing up for the first time in, fuck, who knows how long.

It's that dim hope that he might actually mean it resurfacing.

Before he smothers it again, because he _can't_. He sees right through Dick. He _has_ to.

He can't let himself be taken in by anything any of them do. When was the last time one of the freaking Bats touched him for something other than a fight anyway?

All at once, Jason comes back to himself and he roughly shakes Dick's hand off, taking a step back.

"Thanks for the concern," Jason says, grateful once again for the helmet. It's the same _this isn't what you want_ bullshit, after all, and fuck this. Fuck this and fuck him. "But you've got nothing to fix here, if that's what you're thinking."

Dick takes a step back himself, and from the look on his face, Jason can tell he's gearing up for round two.

Too bad he's going to have to deny him. "We got ourselves a situation here anyway, Wonder Boy. The sooner we take care of this guy--" And Jason jerks his head at the hallway again, where Callaway's last weak shout is trailing off. "--The sooner we take care of the bigger issue. So if you'll just let me--"

" _No_."

Cassandra, silent until now, steps between them, squaring her shoulders.

Shit.

He can't play this with her the same way he can with Dick.

"Cass," Dick begins.

Cassandra ignores him, meeting Jason's eyes instead, and points straight at him. "You won't. We won't." She glances at Dick, then back at Jason. "We can't stay. Tell Batman to keep looking here. Just... don't tell him about everything else."

Dick shakes his head, that stubborn set to his mouth. "Cass... If Shiva can be some kind of threat right now, then Batman--"

"Please," she says imploringly, turning back to look at Dick with wide eyes. "Not yet. It's important. And she's... our mother, so..."

And fuck does Jason want to argue. Fuck, does he want to cut right in and tell them that _no_. Nobody's telling Batman anything, because there's gonna be no fucking Callaway to mention to him anymore. And fuck does he want to shake him, shake Dick. He wants to grab him by the shoulders and literally shake some sense into his stupid, brilliant brain. He knows Dick isn't fucking stupid. He knows maybe, just freaking maybe, Dick could someday get it, if he took the blinders off, if he ever _listened_ to someone besides Bruce. The way the Bats "deal" with scum like Callaway is useless, won't even begin to deal with the real problem. He could _see it_. But.

But this is Cassandra who's standing in his way right now, who's already as much as promised to take him down for killing. And proven she's more than capable of doing it. As much as it galls him, Callaway might have to be a problem for another day.

They do have their dear mother hanging over them right now anyway.

Reluctantly, Dick nods, just as Jason speaks up.

"Knock yourself out with Callaway, Nightwing," he concedes, even though every fiber of him's telling him the asshole will be back out on the streets in no time. But maybe the Red Hood can do something about that once he's out of Batman's custody. "I'm outta here."

He makes a beeline for the window Dick and Cassandra came in through, dignified as he can make it. He has no doubt they'll catch up soon enough and he's not sticking around any longer than he absolutely needs to.

He hears the murmur of Cass' voice, Dick's answering murmur, and the near soundless creak of the door.

He doesn't hear Dick's footsteps. No, the Golden Boy's too damn good to be that loud.

Jason doesn't turn to look back, just clambers right out the window, Cass at his heels.

-

Cass ends up leading him to the remains of Oracle's clock tower, where it stands only partially rebuilt, like someone started the repairs then wandered off.

Not that it being _Oracle's clock tower_ really means that much to him. He never saw Babs in it, or as Oracle at all, but he's done his research.

Cassandra sure seems familiar enough for the both of them with what Barbara's been up to the last few years though.

He eyes her carefully where they sit, the words just on the tip of his tongue.

She beats him to it. "You... knew Oracle before, right? When she was Batgirl."

He swallows. Well, that's probably a question he should have expected, all considered. "Sorta'. Met her a few times, not a whole lot. She was kinda' retiring."

She nods slowly, leaning against the ledge. With her hood still drawn up, her face is partially obscured, but he thinks she might be frowning down at her feet. "I... see. So you didn't know her that well? Before?"

He shrugs. It's... complicated, really, is what he has no desire to say to her right now. "We got along fine, I guess. Worked together once or twice. There was some cover story about her tutoring me and everything."

She nods again. "I only met her after the earthquake... But I've heard stories from when _she_ was Batgirl and..." She inhales. "She was good, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, Cass," he agrees, because regardless of how much she may buy into some of Bruce's bullshit, and regardless of the fact he would very much be at odds with her if they met again, he never did stop respecting her. "She's great."

(It's probably a good thing, he realizes, that she ditched Gotham before he even came back. Not that he doubts she knows everything already.)

She shakes her head. "She was the _best_ ," she says, something oddly pointed to her tone. "I don't think anyone could be as good... as she was. I don't know if..."

Huh.

Jason's doesn't say anything at first, turning that over in his mind. He gets the feeling he might know what this is really about, what she's trying to get at here. And he can't say it's not a little--a lot, a whole fucking lot--familiar. Wondering if she'll ever measure up, if she'll ever be as good as her predecessor, if she can really fill those shoes and wear that cape... Well, it's a hell of a lot more familiar than he really cares to admit, even to himself.

But the idea of spilling _his_ guts makes him want to hurl.

"Is this about your being perfect thing?" he asks, and doesn't let himself regret asking.

Like hell he's talking about himself. But if she's trying to talk about it, and actually wants to talk about it to someone who doesn't have the slightest clue what he should even say to that?

Well. He _is_ still wondering just what makes her tick.

"I don't know..." She huffs. "Yes. Oracle wouldn't have done it. She'd have found another way..." She ducks her head. "If it'd happened to her, she'd..."

"She'd what? Know what to do?" He leans against the ledge as well, setting his hands down flat on it. "I don't really think you did the wrong thing, you know?"

She looks up at him, lifting her head in one quick motion, and the hood slips just enough for him to catch the sharp look she's giving him. "No. I told you. I can't do that."

"Cassandra..."

" _No._ I _can't_."

Jason bites the inside of his cheek.

Maybe not now. Not when he's still gotta deal with Wonder Boy as soon as he deigns to show his face again.

He rolls his eyes behind his helmet and shoves the thought away. "How'd she give you the Batgirl gig anyway?"

There. A change in topic, easy.

Cass looks up at him. She doesn't say a word, adjusting her hood so he can't see her expression again, but he gets the feeling she's studying him again.

"It's... a long story," she says slowly. But Batman... and everyone. They needed help. So I wanted to help..." Cassandra shrugs. "And _she_ helped _me_."

"I guess things were probably pretty bad here during the No Man's Land then, huh," he says lightly, though he knows damn well they were. He'd been half a world away at the time, hadn't even entirely been in his right mind, but damn right he looked into everything he could.

"Yeah. A lot happened. It was okay in the end, but..."

"But they needed a Batgirl?"

"I guess so. Um, I could tell you about it." He just manages to catch sight of the way her brow furrows. "I want to. Later..."

The _when you've stopped killing_ is unvoiced but obvious in her tone, in the way she trails off.

It's probably too bad then, that it's not happening. And it's turning into more and more of a losing battle, trying to convince her he's doing the right thing.

And he's beginning to realize, a little more every time they meet, that he can't be the brother she wants. He's... not sure how he feels about that.

They fall into an uncomfortable silence.

He can't quite find the words to answer. Or doesn't quite bother to look for them. He's not sure himself.

Dick arrives not long after that, ducking under the tarp in the corner they're perched on right now.

Jason doesn't ask if Callaway's feeding the fishes, figures it's for the best for the both of them. Keeping the peace for now or something.

But there's still an awkward air around him when Dick stops before them, where they've perched on the edge of the ledge. And maybe it's that, maybe it's the dim lighting, or maybe it's still the revelation of his and Cass' parentage still fresh in his mind, but he's giving off a different vibe, a little less the sanctimonious bastard, a little more the awkward interloper.

And still somehow just as annoying perfect as always, if not quite so put together.

(Or maybe Jason's just going fucking crazy and imagining things.)

They stare at each other in silence.

Until Jason scoffs and pulls off his helmet, setting it down beside him. If he has to do this, he's getting some damn fresh air. Besides, he's got a domino mask and all Cass has got is her hood. What's the difference?

"So we've got ourselves a little assassin problem," he starts off, tone as light as he can make it. "What do we gotta do about it? 'Cause I say we start off by booting Birdbrain off the island."

"Nah, I'm good here."

Cassandra ignores that, of course. Instead, she straightens up, pulling down her hood. "I don't really know what she's doing for sure, but. If she's coming here... Then I have to..." She shakes her head, turning dark eyes on them. "I have to be ready."

And that's just the thing, isn't it? She _has_ to, she says.

That's just the conversation they _didn't_ have tonight. If she wants to go back to being Batgirl, she thinks she's gotta pull out some game changer somewhere so she can actually face Shiva without fighting to the death, so she can pull off Batman's stupid ideal. That whole avoiding a repeat of their last fight thing, a repeat of... whoever she killed before.

"So you think she might really be after you?"

"I think so." She presses her lips together. "But... she contacted you, too."

"What else did she say exactly, then?" Dick cuts in, his stupid _leader_ voice on. "We can start with that. Then what she said about you both."

Cassandra frowns in thought. "She talked about how... I was working with Batman. And asked what I've been doing since, um, we fought."

Jason arches an eyebrow. "You told her?"

She smiles, just slightly. "No, I didn't tell her anything. Don't worry."

And thank fucking god for that. He knows Shiva's got her ways of figuring out what she wants, might even already know what she wants, but the less they hand to her, the better, especially when it looks like she's having some kind of twisted laugh at their expense.

"That was it then?" 

She gives Jason an odd look, raising both her eyebrows. "Sort of. But she did say something about..."

Jason's stomach sinks. Oh, he gets the feeling he knows what she's getting at.

"Me?" he finishes for her without really thinking.

Cass nods. "She said she only wanted to know what... _I_ was doing, because you haven't..." She hesitates, her expression unreadable. "You 'haven't met your goals...' And I should remind you..."

She pauses and the look she gives him after is piercing, as if she already _has_ found something in him.

He doesn't need to look at Dick to know he has to be giving him a look of his own.

Ha. He can't say he's surprised. He doesn't know how much Bruce told them, if he told them anything at all. But he knows they're not stupid and can put most of the pieces together on their own. They have to know what Shiva meant by _goals_.

But _Jason's_ not fucking stupid either. And this smells more than a little rotten. Nothing's ever quite what it seems with mother dearest. So just what the hell is Shiva trying to get from him? To let him know she'd be proud if he actually did manage it?

Jesus, maybe she's just fucking with him. That'd be more likely than that idiot idea. Because proud? _Her_?

Shit, he hasn't forgotten what Shiva said to him when she contacted _him_ either. What she said even before that. He still can't tell just what she was angling for. And Talia wasn't anywhere near as enlightening as she probably likes to think she was. But it's gotta be more of the same. Was she digging for info on Cassandra that time? Was she hoping he'd tell her, then turned to Cassandra herself when that went nowhere? Or...

He doesn't know.

 _It's only a shame you can't claim the same level of success just yet_ she'd said that time, laughter in her voice.

Maybe it was like before. Like that time when she was training him, actually praised him. Then had to bring up the fucking Replacement.

So what is it this time? To rub in that Cassandra has defeated her and Jason has, what? Not even accomplished his own plans for revenge? Or is she looking to encourage a little _healthy_ sibling rivalry between them, see which of her homemade killers is the best one?

Shit.

 _Some motivation,_ she'd said that time, as if it were actually a reasonable fucking thing to say, as if that were even fucking close to what he wanted to ever hear or as if it would have actually made him work harder on his training.

As if it would have ever changed the outcome of his confrontation with Bruce.

(Maybe... If he'd done things differently. But he doesn't let himself follow that train of thought. Bruce is... He's too set in his ways, too fucking stubborn. Maybe he should have known from the start, that he'd never pick _him_. That he'd never deign to _bend_.)

"Uh huh..." he all but drawls when the silence goes on for too long, tries to sound unconcerned. He doesn't think he particularly wants this discussion with either of them anymore.

Besides.

Maybe... Just maybe... There's an idea beginning to take root in the back of his mind.

"And that was it?"

When Cass nods, almost hesitantly, he nods right back, lets himself actually think about her answer some more, and.

It clicks. And the idea grows, its roots grow just a little deeper.

He clenches his fist. It's a possibility. Not a great one. But an option when he's short on them, especially with those two here.

He's not sure if he has the time to go over all the ramifications of it right now, to really stop and consider every possible outcome, every fallback he might need, but he can damn well try. Cass and Dick are distracted enough and they haven't had a repeat of any previous _incidents_ just yet. He could keep an eye on them while he--

" _Hood_."

His name, and sounding like it's not the first time it's been said in the last few seconds at that, is enough for him to realize he hasn't heard a word of what Dick and Cass have said after that.

" _What._ "

"I said," Dick starts, the expression he's aiming at Jason an unfamiliar one, and one he can't say he likes at that. "I don't think it matters if it's Cass she is after right now. It might be better for Batman to handle it this time instead of making her--"

" _I_ said," Cassandra cuts in, her hands closing into fists over the edges of her jacket. "I don't think that's going to work. Shiva won't see him. If... what she wants is me."

"But you can't face her," Jason says. "You said you weren't ready to even be Batgirl again."

"I'm not. But I'm... out of time."

Jason doesn't answer.

Does it really matter to Shiva? Cassandra already did what she wanted, the last time they met. She's already _proud_ , for whatever proud means to someone like Lady fucking Shiva.

What's with the cryptic messages at _him_ then. Is she actually trying to tell him something?

That _idea's_ beginning to look a little more plausible.

Or... is he just being paranoid and _actually_ losing his mind here?

Jesus. Jesus, that's just it, isn't it? How self-centered can he be?

She went practically eighteen years without _ever_ contacting Jason, without a fucking care in the world about her stupid, _weak_ second child. What the hell would ever make her want anything more to do with him now, especially when Talia's not putting her up to it?

But. But he can't shake it off either. There's still that one thing he can do.

He glances at Cassandra and Dick, where she's stubbornly shaking her head again.

Yeah. Like hell he's telling either of them what he's thinking.

"Well, she ain't here yet," he speaks up, casual as he can. He's counting on her not arriving yet, really. "I dunno, you think she'd let us know just _when_ she's planning on getting here?"

Cass bites her lip. "Probably."

"Then..." And Jason breathes out a sigh, makes his voice heavier than it really feels. "What d'ya say we meet up again tomorrow for this? Maybe _without_ the Boy Wonder here?" He jerks his head at Dick, even makes sure to smirk.

"I don't think so," Dick says, at the same time that Cass cuts in with, "He should be here. He can help."

Jason scoffs, but raises his hands in surrender. "Right, right. Sure. Then you _won't_ mind if I just leave for now?"

"It's fine." She looks straight at Jason. "It's late and you two have been... working."

Dick says nothing, only crosses his arms. Jason's taking it as agreement.

"Then if you'll excuse me." He ignores the look Cass gives him, far too searching for his comfort (she knows, she has to know, she has to--), and tucking his helmet under his arm, turns around and raises a hand in a mock goodbye.

"See ya, Cass. See ya, Dickie."

He's got someone to find.

And one more chance to get things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually... maybe halfway done shortly after uploading the last chapter. But, unfortunately, my thesis,
> 
> In any case! Iiiif I am not mistaken, this is the last chapter where I don't already have at least a chunk written so! Fingers crossed I get these last few ones out faster, haha, if... I don't go off the rails again, _heeeyyy_
> 
> Thank you for reading! ♥


	6. always faster than me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, hello, a lot happens here.

He doesn't get very far.

Halfway across the island and the shadow he's been _sure_ has been following him for the last god knows how long materializes on the fire escape he'd just been climbing. He just can't find it in him to be surprised.

The _clang_ of her feet hitting the metal is just loud enough, just _deliberate_ enough, that he stops and turns, and drops down from the ladder he'd been halfway up. He can take a hint.

"It take you this long to ditch Nightwing?" he asks by way of greeting.

In the darkness, with her hood up, he can't see her expression as she tilts her head at him, but he can sure picture the way she must be narrowing her eyes at him. "I didn't... _ditch_ him. He went to talk to Batman."

He bites the inside of his cheek, pushing the question on the tip of his tongue right back down his throat. If he's not here with her right now, then she probably didn't say where she was going. "And you didn't go with him. So to what do I owe the honor?"

Pulling her hood down, Cass eyes him warily. "I was worried. You were nervous when you left. Like... You didn't want us to know something..."

Jason sighs, but doesn't bother to try lying. He expected this. Jesus, he _knew_ she could see right through him, he'd have called her naive if she wasn't at least suspicious. He was just kind of hoping he could be fast enough. "Yeah. I guess I am. Gonna do something about it?"

"It depends."

"Yeah? On what?" he asks, casual as he can.

"What are you going to do?" She's frowning now, more suspicious than wary. "That's what it depends on."

"Why?" he asks, as he pulls off his helmet again. "You worried I'm gonna do something stupid? Trying to stop me if I am?"

"Yes," she answers, matter-of-fact. "I'm your big sister. You're... my responsibility."

And that? _Ouch_.

Fucking ouch.

Just like back in the clock tower, he can hear the implied condition in what she's _not_ saying, can hear the _I'm here for you..._ if _you stop killing_.

And he's already thought enough about that.

Jason turns the helmet over in his hands, considering. "Hey, Cass," he says, not even remotely a suitable answer. Not for what she's asking, anyway. "Can you tell what I'm thinking?"

She wrinkles her nose. "No. I told you, it's just... body language."

He nods slowly, eyes still on the helmet, keeping his every movement deliberate. "Yeah, I figured." He sucks in a breath. "You really think about what Shiva was trying to tell you?" 

"We talked about it..." In the darkness, he just makes out Cass worrying her bottom lip.

"I don't think our mother's coming for _you_ , Cass."

He looks up, just a fraction of a second, just a flicker of movement, and it's downright gratifying, seeing _her_ be the one surprised for once. Surprised by something _he_ said, at that.

He almost leaves it at that, but. Well, if he really is going to do this, maybe he can say this much.

"You already did what she wanted, Cass," he breathes. " _You're_ not still the family disappointment."

And he could laugh, really, he thinks, even as it feels a little like his heart's trying to beat its way out of his chest. He could just laugh. The family disappointment in _multiple_ families. That's gotta be some kind of achievement.

Before Cassandra can answer, he goes on, "You killed her." And he doesn't miss the way she flinches. "Or as well as did. And that's what she wanted, ain't it? You _made her proud_." Now that he's started, the words feel like poison on his tongue, like he's got to spit them out _now_ , before they get to him. "But me? I failed, Cass. The Joker's alive and Batman's alive. And she probably wanted at least one of 'em dead."

"But..." Cass shakes her head helplessly. She stands across from him, frozen. "It's... it's good that you didn't. You can't..."

"Cassandra," he interrupts her. He can't. He can't do this song and dance with her all over again. He's got to get to the heart of it, _fast_. "You probably know her as well as I do." And that's not even saying much. Months on end with her and he still barely knows anything about his own damn birth mother. "Her coming here? Means she's gonna do something about her failure of a son."

"You think she's..."

And that's enough.

"Sorry, _sis_." He lets the helmet slip through his fingers, watches it land with a clatter between them. "But that's why I can't stick around."

He has just enough time to see the way her eyes widen, to see realization dawn in them ( _good_ , he's not looking to hurt her), before he's tapping the detonator and vaulting himself up the ladder again.

_So much for stealth._

The explosion's just small enough, just localized enough, to be little more than an inconvenience. And a very convenient distraction for _him_.

And one he plans to take full advantage of. Calling on every grueling day of training he's _ever_ had, he shoots a line to the next building over, quick as he can, and is halfway to the next roof before he hears anything else from Cass.

It takes him two more rooftops before he realizes she's not following.

Knowing she lets him get away isn't very gratifying.

-

He stops at his nearest safe house, sends out an email to Talia (much as he hates having to do it in the first place), and sets right out again, little more than a _bad idea_ in his head.

And still no sign of Cass.

He's sure it's just a matter of time until she shows up again, letting him get away or not, and just a matter of time until Dick's on his ass again, too. He's pretty damn sure the only reason neither of them's found him yet is likely just how careful he's been with his safe house this time. But that's fine. That's fucking fine. He can deal with it.

Besides, she'll know where he's going soon enough. If he's lucky, she won't be able to do anything about it. His priority right now's another woman in his oh so beloved _family_ , after all.

He's hoping, hell, counting on Shiva not arriving in Gotham yet. But if there's anything his time with her taught him it's that she's always one step ahead. She _has_ to know what conclusions he'll come to. Especially _if_ she really has been trying to tell him something.

( _If_. He's still not convinced he's not fooling himself here, but he's got no time to stop and think about it. He'll get his confirmation soon enough anyway.)

 _If_ he's not losing his mind, she'll be expecting him to have already figured it out, to already be trying to run interference. And far be it from him to disappoint her in this.

Because if he's reading things right, the _advice_ and _motivation_ she claimed to offer the last time they spoke might have just turned into a hell of a lot more than a push now.

And if she's taking matters into her own hands, pushing him into action, he's got plenty of things to deal with now. Plenty of people to do something about.

The phone he grabbed while leaving his safe house _finally_ lights up with a response to his email by the time he's nearing the outskirts of the city, when the sun's just peeking out over the horizon.

It takes little more than a glance to confirm what he suspected, Talia doesn't bother with any pleasantries in her reply. Once he does, the relief is almost tangible with how hard it hits him. And how quickly he needs to push it away.

Not in Gotham yet, thank fucking Christ, but soon to arrive--and he doesn't even want to know how Talia found that out in just a handful of hours. All that matters is that she did get that info for him.

And that maybe he's not losing his fucking mind.

He knows Shiva--and Talia, too--will probably expect him to go for the Joker first, to go straight for the man he _should_ think is most in danger from her, but. He's got other priorities. Another loose end he'd rather take care of himself first.

(And maybe. Just maybe, he tries _not_ to admit to himself, he doesn't actually want what Shiva would prefer for this particular one.)

He remembers every single entrance to the Batcave, every single one that Bruce showed him over the few brief years he was Robin.

And he spent long enough in the city before putting his plan (Jesus, his plan, his _fucking plan_ ) into motion that he's sure he's managed to find a few new ones already.

But those are useless to him now.

If he's gotta do this, if this is really the choice he's made for now...

Well, he's going to make a goddamn point as he does it.

Disarming the defenses on the entrance he picks, the one in the woods near the manor, is laughably easy for him, so much so he's _sure_ the old man can't have buffed up security at all after finding out he's still alive. And that's just...

He shoves that thought away before it can fully form, shaking his head as he lets himself into the tunnel.

Who the fuck cares? It doesn't matter.

That's what he tells himself as he crosses the tunnel, as he forces himself to _not think about it_. When he actually reaches the Cave proper, he stops, rests a hand against the wall, and takes in a breath.

Jesus fucking Christ. Scratch that earlier thought. He really has gone fucking insane, if he really is doing this.

His first real step inside sends a shiver coursing up his spine, like someone walking over his grave. (And _ha_. Maybe someone actually did.)

He shakes it off and makes a beeline for the main computer. The lights are dim, but still just bright enough for him to see the keyboard and empty chair. And just one brief stop behind the chair, before it's like slipping into a well-worn shirt, falling into an old role, when he drops down onto that chair and pulls up the one file he needs from Batman's databanks.

The file's mostly what he already knows, with little that'll actually be helpful, but he quickly copies it all over to his own flash drive, before stowing it away in one of his jacket's inside pockets.

Then he's swiveling the chair around to face the entrances from the house and making himself comfortable.

If he's timed this right, then...

He hears the elevator go off.

Just in time, accounting for just the exact amount of time it would take for intruder alarms to go off, if... say, someone hadn't bothered to do more than just _temporarily_ disable the Cave's defenses when he entered.

Showtime.

Jason reaches up to his helmet. And stops, clenching his hands into fists.

Huh. Shaking.

His hands are shaking.

He lowers them down to his lap, taking in one long breath. And with one quick, abrupt motion, reaches up to tear off the helmet.

Just in time for the elevator doors to ding open.

Fuck.

Dropping his helmet down to his lap, he straightens up. He chose to do this. He can see it through.

The elevator seems empty at first and that's about what he expected, really. Bruce isn't stupid enough to let some unknown intruder get the jump on him.

So Jason makes himself obvious.

"It's me," he drawls, with a confidence he does not even remotely feel, lazily raising an arm.

Heart in his mouth, he watches as Bruce comes in from the _stairs_ and he can't quite help the smirk that steals over his face. It never was Jason's favorite method to enter the Cave, but. It works.

Not that he'd expect any less.

He doesn't have much time to think about it though, not when the reality of Bruce-- _Bruce_ , not even in his Batman suit--standing there in front of Jason sinks in.

For him _and_ for Bruce.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce demands in a tone he can't even begin to--doesn't even want to begin to--recognize, not quite closing the distance between the foot of the stairs and the main computer.

Jason clenches his hands in his lap, pretends they're not still shaking, and holds himself still.

Focus, he needs to focus.

"I'm not here to fight you," he manages to say, just as he gets his first good look at Bruce.

He looks.

He doesn't know.

From his perch on the computer seat, it all looks _off_.

Without the suit, Bruce looks smaller somehow, like he's got less of a presence, like something's just... Something's missing. He looks _old_ , older maybe, lines on his face that he knows weren't there before Jason died. And it's downright jarring, more than a little wrong, like something he shouldn't be witness to in the first place, seeing him like this for the first time since _before_.

Frankly, he's got no idea what to do with it.

He eyes him carefully and doesn't even bother to pretend he isn't, not when Bruce is doing the same to him.

Maybe it's not even his age. It might be because Jason grew? Because Bruce has only got a couple inches on him now instead of towering over him?

Shit. He doesn't know.

"Then what are you here for?" Bruce asks in that controlled Batman way of his, even deepening his voice.

And he should be calling the old man stupid for that, for accepting that so easily instead of tackling him and restraining him or something, but. Well, that'd be pointless.

Bruce isn't new to this. He probably has half a dozen plans for what to do with him already.

Jason sighs, crossing his arms. Try as he might, he can't make the pose as casual as he wants it to be.

So much for looking in control. His luck never fucking changes.

"I've got an _associate_ ," he begins, feeling absolutely ridiculous. An associate. Sure. "And I know for a fact..." That much is a lie. He's guessing, trying to put things together on his own with what little he's had confirmed. He knows just how dangerous that can be, but he still doesn't have a lot of options at the moment. "...that she's gonna be looking for both you and me real soon."

Bruce stares at him. Jason tries not to shift in his seat.

Then, like a switch flipping, Bruce steps forward, to where he can see the, now cleared, computer screens. He doesn't stand too close to Jason and he's more grateful for it than he would have imagined. Even if the man can't seem to tear his fucking eyes away from him.

"Who is _she_ , exactly? And why is she looking for the two of us?" he asks.

Jason swivels the chair around to face him again. "But maybe you've heard of her," he goes on, as if Bruce had never spoken. "The name _Lady Shiva_ ring a bell?"

Bruce presses his lips together. "Sandra Woosan," he says, as if he were reading the name off his computer screens and _fuck_.

Of course everyone knew her real name but him. It hadn't even been in her file when he'd first pulled up her information back when. Before.

"Yeah," he says tightly. "Her."

Bruce doesn't say anything else, just looks at him expectantly. Deceptively so, he can still see where Bruce is holding himself carefully, ready for anything.

Jason can barely get his next words out, ends up chewing on the inside of his cheek for several too long moments, crossing his arms just a little tighter against himself. And what a pathetic little picture he's got to be painting, his _even more_ triumphant second return.

Jesus.

"And she's pretty freaking invested in what her kids are doing right now," he hears himself whisper, and immediately wants to get up and _leave_.

With great effort, he stays seated.

Bruce is silent for just long enough to make Jason twitch visibly in his seat. Just another point against him in his pathetic little display.

"She's Cassandra's mother," Bruce says at length. By the look in his eyes, Jason can tell he's already reaching some quick conclusions.

"Yeah. She is."

He nods slowly and walks around him to the keyboard, where he pulls up the very same file Jason did before.

Shiva's.

Bruce isn't looking at Jason anymore. "Years ago, you and I confronted her. At the time, she claimed to have no children." He rests his hands beside the keyboard, narrowing his eyes up at the information on the screen. "Not long ago, I found out she'd outsmarted us. She had a daughter. We can't tell her exact age, but she can't be that much older than you."

And that's an invitation if he's ever gonna get one.

"I ever tell you I was born early? Or have you got that in your files already."

"Yes." That's not exactly confirmation on either one. "It fits with what she was doing nineteen, twenty years ago. With her patterns at the time." He taps his fingers against the keyboard. "You trained with her, then," he goes on, still not looking at Jason. "I thought I recognized some of the moves you used when we fought."

Jason finds himself sneering at the mention of that fight. _When we fought_ , sure, that's one way to fucking put it.

"Did she encourage this?" he goes on, while Jason stubbornly stays silent. (He _can't_ speak, he can't, the words are building up in his throat and--) Bruce finally looks at him again. "She'd approve of this, wouldn't she? Did she--"

He's gotta be fucking kidding him.

Jason stands abruptly, letting his helmet clatter to the ground in front of the chair. " _Her_?" he demands, as what Bruce is implying clicks together in his mind, loosening his tongue. "You think _she_ put me up to this or something? Let me fucking tell you, I didn't need _her_ to put me up to anything." He grits his teeth, one hand gripping his jacket tightly. "Everything I did? Everything I _am_ doing? It's all from _your_ actions, Bruce."

Bruce's face might as well be made of stone, given how much it tells him just then. "You might have been influenced by her. She's notoriously--"

"I was _not_!" he all but yells, suddenly finding himself only inches from Bruce. When did he move again? "It was all _me_!"

Something flickers across Bruce's eyes.

Then he's looking away, as if that little detour had never happened. "Miss Haywood, then. She lied?"

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut tight, feeling himself deflate. Jesus, he fucking hates this. "She didn't technically lie, I guess. She was, like..." He opens his eyes and waves a hand, feeling a little like this just has to be some surreal parody of a conversation here, like maybe he should try yelling something else at him just to see where it goes. Weren't they just in each other's faces a second ago? "Willis' fiancée when Shiva dumped me with him. I guess she probably did mean to raise me before she fucked off? I don't know. Not like we had a lot of time to talk."

The pained expression that steals over Bruce's face satisfies something in him, has him raising an eyebrow silently at Bruce, resisting the urge to rub at the newly healed scar on his neck.

Good. He should feel bad.

"Jason, your mother..."

Jason scoffs. "Save it. Sheila doesn't matter right now. I'm just here to tell you _she's_ coming, and she's probably gonna be looking for you."

"Why? What exactly do you think she's planning?"

There's no fucking way Bruce hasn't already come to his own conclusions about that, and no way he hasn't already come up with enough plans and backup plans for his backup plans. But, sure, he can share his own opinion.

"I think she wants to make sure I finish what I started," he says, raising his chin defiantly. "What _you_ ruined." 

Bruce doesn't look surprised. It bothers him more than it probably should.

"Are you?" he asks simply and, for just a moment, Jason sees _him_ again. The man he is with the suit on, not the strangely smaller man from before.

He hasn't lost his touch indeed.

Jason steels himself, standing up straighter, though he can _feel_ himself sweating through his gloves. "I think I'd rather deal with things on my own terms, not hers." The words feel like ash in his mouth, like more of a concession than Bruce will ever deserve from him. But he doesn't particularly want to take them back either.

The important thing, anyway, is that he's not just going to bow to whatever mindgames Shiva's playing with him. 

"And Cassandra? Why not go to her for help? She's familiar with Lady Shiva."

Fuck _no_ he's not going to her for help, or letting anyone drag her any further into this, when he already went through so much trouble to lose her.

"Look," he says, louder than he meant to. "Shiva already got what she wanted from _her_ , so leave her out of this." And he's been trying not to acknowledge _why_ he did his best to ditch her, has been trying to keep his thoughts away from that particular bit, but.

He can't be the family she wants, but this is the one thing he can do for his sister. He can keep her from facing someone she's not ready to face yet, can let her find her own damn way back to being Batgirl.

It's stupidly ridiculously sentimental, probably. But maybe it can make up for all the years before they met.

Bruce arches an eyebrow, and doesn't exactly seem willing to concede the point. But Jason doesn't exactly let him press it either.

"I'm out," he says right over whatever Bruce intends to say, and takes a moment to grab his helmet again. If he holds it just tight enough, he can hide the way his hands are still shaking. "I told you. You know. My conscience is clear. You can do whatever the hell you want with it."

"I can't just let you go." Bruce steps forward and, for the second time today, Bruce looks _pained_ , actually showing some goddamn emotion again. "After dealing with Shiva, Jason... We can set things right and..."

Jason doesn't bother to keep listening.

He laughs. _Set things right_. Oh, Bruce already had his chance to do just that.

And he blew it.

"Yeah?" he asks, surprising himself with how he barely recognizes his own voice. "Set things right? I don't fucking think so."

And he's been trying not to point it out himself, he really fucking has. But he bares his teeth in something not even remotely approaching a smile and very deliberately reaches up to pull down his collar. "Were you trying to set things fucking right when you threw that thing at me? When you were just _chomping at the bit_ to get away from me and go to Bludhaven?"

" _Jason_."

Jason speaks over him. "The worst fucking thing is I'm sure that's what you thought you were doing. And I'm not waiting around to see what your idea of that is _this_ time."

Bruce steps forward. Jason steps back.

"Jason, please."

Jason kicks out at the computer chair and jams the helmet right back on his head.

Because today's just a day for cheap fucking tricks, smoke fills the room from the smoke bombs he stashed there when he came in. And it's not the kind of thing that would even make Batman flinch, but _Bruce Wayne_ still has regular human eyes.

He's bracing himself for some kind of fight anyway, for having to fight his way to one of the exists, but he doesn't hear a single word from Bruce as he slips out again.

He can't shake the feeling someone's let him get away for the second time that day.

-

It doesn't take him long to find out why Bruce let him go.

He takes the long, winding path back to his safe house on the other side of the city, figuring it's the safer option. Then finds out just _why_ that was a mistake the second he touches down on the roof.

"I don't remember expecting company today," he drawls, rising to his feet as he keeps his distance from the figures waiting closer to the center of the roof.

Cassandra purses her lips at him.

"Batman told us," she says, and he thinks he'll be sick. He _told them_. "Then he left and..."

Dick sighs. "You know what he's like. He left without telling anyone where he was going. And Cass..." He pauses at the look Cass aims at him, pressing his lips together. "We thought we should help you out."

A beat of silence. Useless. Everything he did, it was all fucking useless.

Jason laughs. "He told you." He huffs out a breath, the laughter dying in his voice. Jesus, it's not fucking funny at all. "He _told_ you." The one fucking thing he asked the guy to do and he couldn't do even that much. He couldn't even just tell Nightwing and no one else, no. He had to tell Cass.

Disappointment after fucking disappointment.

"This isn't about you, Cass." He jerks his head at Dick. "Much less about him."

"Yes, it is," she says, voice deceptively soft. "I told you. You're my brother..." She shakes her head. "And she's our mother."

"And," Dick begins, probably the calmest he's seen Dick since they met up again, when actually speaking to Jason anyway. Even if everything about him just _screams_ reluctance. "We _had_ been going to work on a plan together." He gives him a pointed look. "Without Batman."

Jason shrugs. "Sue me, I figured out what she was after." No need to mention he just took the wild leap that seemed the most reasonable while still talking to them. "Besides, so what? Dunno if you've noticed, but we've kinda' got different methods, Birdbrain."

Dick arches an eyebrow. "You're gonna kill Shiva?" There's a challenge in his tone, a far cry from the way he'd spoken to him about not killing the Joker.

But Jason's not fucking stupid. He can see what he's trying and it doesn't work when his heart is so obviously not really in it. "It was already what she wanted once."

Cassandra flinches.

He tries not to feel too bad about that.

"What are you even gonna do? He ran off without even telling you where to find her, didn't he? You gonna just sit around and hope for the best?"

"We're going right back to before you ran out on us. That's what," Dick says firmly. "We were going to figure it out."

"To sleep on it," Cass says wryly.

Jason scoffs. "What're you gonna do if I say no?"

"Follow you anyway," Cass says. "I don't want you to do this alone..."

And that's kind of a problem. Considering it's _Cass_ he doesn't want to have anything to do with this.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Are you going to run away?" she asks, voice soft. And _that_ , her tone, is what gives him pause.

Oh, she means business here.

Thing is, he can feel the situation slipping through his fingers the longer Cassandra and Dick stand there staring at him. And if he has to have the two of them actively on his tail...

Just how much did he fuck this all up already?

"You're not leaving, are you?" he asks slowly, even as he tries to come up with _some_ way to give them the slip. The exploding helmet trick won't work this time.

Dick sighs again. "Give us till tomorrow," he says. "Just that long."

"Here."

"Yes," Cass agrees easily.

He crosses his arms, eyeing them both warily.

This is a bad idea. 

He's tempted to take this chance, his last chance, to throw them both out on their asses, but. It's not like either of them ever do what they're told. Besides, he was most careful with this safe house and they still found it. Would they find anywhere else he could go to?

"How'd you find this place?" he asks reluctantly.

"Called in a favor from the eye in the sky. Halfway across the country and she could still find you."

 _Barbara_. Of fucking course. He's never even met her as Oracle and she's still ruining his plans.

Sure sounds just like her.

He glares.

-

Idiot that he is, he _lets_ them stay, telling himself the whole time it'll just be a few hours till he ditches them again, till maybe he finds a way to convince Oracle not to sell him out again. Or till he deals with everything before they can react, he's not picky.

They don't talk. They don't fucking _plan_ anything just yet.

He doesn't let himself linger around them, just heads straight to the bedroom he's been using and peels off his clothes, for once keeping his mind carefully blank.

Problem is that, out of his suit and knowing just who's in his safe house, he's feeling a little naked in just his civvies as he shuffles out into the kitchen.

Bigger problem is who's in the kitchen though.

He freezes. Because there's the Boy Wonder in all his shining glory, also in civvies, frowning down at something on his phone screen.

He considers turning tail and running off back to his bedroom, but unfortunately for him, Dick obviously heard him come in. He looks up from his phone screen, frowning at Jason standing by the edge of the counter now.

"You're gonna stay there?" he asks, as close to a peace offering as Jason can probably expect right now.

Jason blinks.

Shit. He's not a fucking coward. He can face his predecessor slash _whatever the fuck he is_ any damn time.

Or at least while he's in Jason's space.

With as much confidence as he can fake, he brushes past Dick to the other side of the counter, where he leans back against it, across from Dick. "Sure, make yourself at home, Dickface," he spreads his arms. "No need to ask me."

Beyond completely ignoring the sarcasm, the look Dick gives him then is hard to decipher, even without anything to cover his eyes this time. "Thanks."

(And it's the first time, he realizes with a jolt, that he's even seen Dick without a mask or sunglasses since he came back to life. It doesn't make him look much better than he's looked the last couple times he's seen him, but it's a change.)

Dick doesn't give him much time to decipher it though. He ducks his head, scuffing the toes of his bare foot against the floor. The motion's strangely hesitant of him. "Anyway, that whole thing... That was good of you," he says at length, voice tight.

"Throwing a bomb at my sister?" Jason offers, though he suspects he knows damn well what Dick's getting at. He doesn't feel _that_ bad about it--it'd been perfectly safe and what had seemed like his best option at the time--but Wonder Boy might want to hear about it.

Dick looks up again, lips pressed into a straight line, and _does not_ take the bait. "Trying to help us, Jason. Trying to help Bru--"

"I don't wanna talk about him," he interrupts, holding up a hand. No. No, no, no, Jesus, he was hoping to avoid this... taking this direction in whatever passes for a conversation between them.

"Jason, I mean it. Just because you're trying not to..."

"Dick. Please." He crosses his arms, and it's his turn to duck his head this time. "I wasn't gonna let Shiva just... What do you take me for?" He lifts his head, manages to inject some confidence into his tone. "'Sides. If anyone's gonna do anything to Bruce, it ain't gonna be her. It'll be me."

Dick _looks_ at him. And, inexplicably, his lips quirk in a small smile.

Small, a little pained, a little tentative, but _a real smile_. The first he's seen in, Jesus, he doesn't know how long. And it makes Dick look a little more like himself again, almost makes him forget about the shadows under his eyes and the tired lines of his face.

Jason's heart skips a beat.

(Stupid, inconvenient, so fucking inconvenient.)

He clenches his hand into a fist, as his heart doesn't have the decency to slow right back down to normal, but speed up, in a way that's quickly become familiar over the last few years.

And not in a good way.

Suddenly, Dick's smile doesn't look quite so nice anymore.

Is this what it takes then? All that time, all those arguments, and one little thing for Bruce and he's what? All forgiven? Until the next time he doesn’t fall in line with Bruce's ridiculous code?

"Don't think it means I'm turning over a new leaf or whatever you've got in that head of yours," he grits out.

Dick's eyes widen in surprise. "I'm not expecting anything. I'm just hoping--"

" _No_." Jason takes a deep breath, makes himself look Dick right in the eye. "This is a temporary thing, Dickface. After this? We go back to how it was before, don't waste your time trying to get on my good side or thanking me or whatever. You know you're only doing it 'cause I helped _Bruce_."

Dick turns a dark look on him, finally seeming to catch up with Jason here. "That's what you think, then?" he says, voice low. "I'm only talking to you because of Bruce?" He narrows his eyes. "This is about more than just him. He's not here right now anyway, Jason, you don't have to posture."

" _Posture_?" he snaps, taking a step forward. "You think this is fucking posturing?"

"Isn't it? A second ago you were fine, _now_ you just want to remind me you're the big bad Red Hood and you don't care about any of us. _Why_?"

"Because you're doing that..." He grasps for words, and goddamn does he feel stupid now. "That stupid _thing_ you do, like the other day! All _oh Jason, we missed you_ and _oh, Jason, you don't have to do this_. It's all bullshit. You just want me to stop!"

For just the slightest of moments, Dick actually looks _affronted_ , like Jason's actually managed to insult him somehow. "I meant every word of that," he breathes, his voice drained of all of that brewing anger from before. "I wasn't lying to you, Jason, I really do--"

And Jason can't listen to this. He can't, he just fucking can't. "You're a damn good liar, Grayson. Better than anyone probably thinks."

Jason tries not to examine the look Dick gives him just then too closely. Something about it pulls at him in just the wrong way, practically whispers at him that he's said something wrong.

And that's something he can't really stop to consider. He's made all his decisions, _including_ deciding that Dick is full of shit when he starts on this. He can't afford to let himself go back on any of it.

They stare at each other, Dick practically frozen in place. "I don't know what gave you that idea, Jason," he finally manages to say, and Jason just barely recognizes that tightly leashed anger rising underneath the words again. "But you're wrong. I told you. I meant every word of that and I mean every word of _this_. If I'm _trying anything_ it's to keep you from doing something you'll regret! Because I care about you, we all do, and we don't want you to--"

Jason barely listens to the end of that, all he can hear is his own heartbeat. And four specific words.

Dick cares about him? _They care about him?_

He's gotta be fucking kidding him.

He forces himself to hold still, to not lash out, not sock him right in his fucking stupid gorgeous face.

"Because you care about me." Jason laughs, the sound feeling like it's been torn out of him. He clutches at the front of his shirt, where he could swear his chest fucking aches. "You _all_ do? Who's all of you, exactly? _You_?" He narrows his eyes. "Babs? Who isn't even here? Cassandra, who _knows_ I'm not gonna stop doing what I do? Or... Bruce?"

Dick doesn't answer.

"News flash, Golden Boy, Bruce doesn't give a fuck. Even when I was facing him at the end. He was still thinking of you. And all that mess in Bludhaven." It comes out a little, _a lot_ , more bitter than he really meant it to, but _fuck_. Bruce had _one_ chance.

Jason had one chance. His one chance, his one _fucking chance_ to make Bruce set things right and he couldn't even keep his full attention on Jason. He was still thinking of someone else, of _anyone_ but Jason, and it _makes his blood boil_. Everyone was more important than him, than the one who fucking died.

He taps the fading scar on his neck, uncovered by his shirt now. "This is how much he fucking cares, Dick."

Dick stares and, from the uncertain way his eyes flick up to Jason's then back down to his neck, Jason can tell it's the first time he notices it. "Jason, what are you..." Because he's a smart guy, Dick trails off, and Jason can just about see when he fits one of the pieces to the puzzle, when his eyes widen just slightly. "You said before..." he begins tentatively. "That you had the scar to prove he chose the Joker over you. That what you were talking about?"

Jason smiles grimly. Now they're getting somewhere. "I gave him a choice. Let me kill the Joker. Or stop me." Every single word feels like a confession, like something more suited to somewhere much darker than this bright, airy kitchen. "Then I had a Batarang sticking out of my neck."

The color drains out of Dick's face. And that's _vindication_ that rises up in Jason's chest at Dick's reaction.

(At just one person who... what? Is appropriately horrified for him?)

"That can't mean what you think it does," Dick says, voice shaking. He shakes his head and the look on his face is... not at all satisfying this time. "I don't know what he was thinking then, but... But you _know_ he'd never want to hurt you. It had to have been an accident, a..."

The expression on Dick's face now, the way it's slowly changing into _something_ , is unfamiliar, but.

He feels the first stirrings of guilt when he sees it.

Jason looks away. "Save it." And he's proud of himself, just the slightest bit, for keeping his voice steady there, for how calm he manages to sound. Though he feels anything _but_. "I don't care, Wonder Boy. His _actions_ sure as hell told me all I needed to know. I could have died, Dick." Try as he might, he can't stop the heat from creeping back into his tone. "I could have _died_ , because all he cared about was keeping that psycho alive! And about getting back to you! So you're telling me you care? That either of you does?!"

"Why wouldn't I care about you?!" Dick all but explodes and. And his tone just about matches that expression now. "I wasn't always..." He seems to choke on the words, but pushes on. "I wasn't great to you. I wasn't there. But of course I cared. I'm not just saying it! After you died, I... Jesus, of course I still care!"

For just a moment, they're silent.

"Don't give me that shit." Jason can't breathe. He can't listen to this. He just fucking can't. "Tell me, is this you trying to defend Bruce? Or trying to feel better about _yourself_? Because, from where I'm standing, it looks to me like the only one who might need some _help_ is you."

" _Jason_ \--"

"So you wanna talk about what's eating at _you_? You know I've heard the rumors. How many of those are _true_?" Once the words start, he can't help but let them pour out of him, with an edge of desperation to them that even he can hear. What he's doing has to be obvious. "What happened, Dickie? Why're you always looking so much like shit lately?" he spits. "How'd Blockbuster die?"

Dick pales again, all the fight draining out of him at once. Then his expression shifts, still that same one he can't (doesn't want to) identify, but with a hint of desperation now, something wild to his eyes.

"What happened is how I know you'd regret killing the Joker," he blurts out.

The world twists sideways.

That's.

No.

He can't have heard that right.

Dick can't be implying what he thinks he's implying.

Jason shakes his head, feeling a little like someone's just dunked him underwater. He suspected a lot of things, expected a lot of things, but all at once, he just. He can't.

Dick's looking at him with that _face_ , telling him he cares with that _voice_ , and implying _that_ , and.

Suddenly, he doesn't want to hear about what happened in Bludhaven anymore. He doesn't want to know what Nightwing had to do with Blockbuster's death.

Suddenly, he's not sure he ever _really_ wanted to know. (Oh, he did, he really fucking did and now--)

This time, he's the one to storm away, leaving a wide-eyed Dick staring after him.

-

His hands are shaking again by the time he drops down and sits on the balcony floor. He reaches into his jacket's inside pocket and, finding it empty, thumps the back of his head against the railing.

Ah, he forgot.

No cigarettes. Great. He can have himself a nice quiet time with nothing but his thoughts, freaking _great_.

He runs a hand down his face and leans back against the railing fully, and takes a moment to look up at the afternoon sky.

He gets all of a couple seconds in silence though, before someone interrupts him.

And he's beginning to think maybe Cassandra lied and _is_ a meta, because she's the one who picks just then to walk out into the balcony and, silently, take a seat next to him.

There's no sign of Dick behind her and Jason thinks he might actually be a little disappointed about that.

Maybe.

"Cass," he says, when she shows no signs of speaking, just tilts her head up to look up at the sky as well.

"Jason," she answers, just as simply.

He grunts. Great, she's making him say it. "You need something?"

Slowly, she shakes her head, but doesn't quite look at him. "I heard you and Dick. Are you..."

And that must be some kind of concession or point she's making here, if she's asking him when she can obviously tell herself. To be quite fucking honest, he's not sure how he feels about her doing that.

"I'm fine," he lies. "Not a big deal."

He really doesn't want to think about that conversation right now.

She lowers her head to look at him now, mouth twisting. "You know he was just trying to..."

"To help?" he asks, and finds himself wincing at how it comes out.

She raises her eyebrows. "To talk to you. He's worried."

Jason frowns. "About Bruce."

"About you."

He props his head on his chin, elbow on his bent knee, and gives her a skeptical look.

Though he can't really help the way his stupid, traitorous heart warms just a fraction at that.

Fuck.

(She's probably right, isn't she?)

"What about you?"

"Me?" she asks, and he's more than a little grateful she lets him dodge _that_ bit.

"You worried, too? Or you just trying to get the gossip on what we were fighting about?"

"No. I know. I heard you."

Jason grimaces.

"But..." She nods. "Yeah. I'm worried, too. Both me and Dick," she says pointedly.

He doesn't answer. He doesn’t really have an answer.

Unfortunately for him, Cass goes on, "You talked to Bruce and..."

"And now he's disappeared," he cuts her off, tone wry. "And Mother Dearest is on her way to see us. We could get _hurt_."

Once again, she lets him change the subject. "It'll be okay. We just... have to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone."

He bites back his automatic answer that she can hurt the Joker for all he cares--he doesn't particularly want _her_ to be the one to do it, if he's honest with himself--and instead settles for a noncommittal grunt.

"I don't want anyone else to get hurt..." she goes on, more of a murmur than anything.

They lapse into silence.

Slowly, Jason turns to get a better look at Cassandra.

 _Anyone else_ , huh... Maybe they really don't have to focus on him.

"Sorry about your friend," he says, forcing himself to keep his eyes on her and not let them drop down to his legs again. "Probably shouldn't have brought up her like that, that one time."

It takes Cass as a moment to connect the dots, but when she does, her eyes widen. "Oh... I..." She bites her lip. "You thought you were helping."

Yeah. Only sort of. "Did I?"

She frowns. "No. I kind of wish you hadn't mentioned her."

"Sorry." He crosses his arms. "I meant what I said. But I get she was your friend and all."

She turns a sour look on him, but doesn't comment on the first part of that. "Stephanie was important to me," she says instead.

There's _something_ about the way she says it that tells him she was _more_ important than her words might imply, but. He doesn't push for her to elaborate. He doesn't quite have the right to do that.

The way she's sitting, shoulders drawn up, eyes on her knees, and head bowed, tells him this isn't the time for it anyway.

And he does, actually, occasionally have tact, fuck you very much.

"...Thank you though. For apologizing. I... You shouldn't have done that. Before. But thank you."

He doesn't really find the words to answer that, but they lapse into a comfortable silence and.

And he hates this. He hates that they're even talking like this, that they've gone a whole conversation without bringing up the elephant in the room. Because it's not the priority right now, because dealing with _Shiva_ is what's taking up all their attention now, not which one of them prefers bullets to fists.

 _And it won't last_. It doesn't matter how briefly they've known each other and how many times they've seen each other in that time. When things stabilize, they'll go back to their own thing. Jason puts down the lowlifes that need to be put down and Cassandra... She swears to take _him_ down for doing that.

And it shouldn't fucking _matter_. It's just how things have to be, he barely even knows her.

Soon enough she'll remember her own damn ultimatum and he'll move on, finally put the last nail in that coffin with his family. But.

Goddamn if the thought doesn't feel like a fist around his heart.

He closes his eyes, letting the silence wash over him. He's fucked everything up with her enough already.

Neither of them speaks again for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I am once again not dead! I totally jinxed myself saying I'd hopefully get the next chapters out quickly. But here's an extra long chapter for you all!
> 
> Side note: I'm, unfortunately, in a hurricane-prone area and you bet Irma hit us. So power outages slowed me down a bit too, haha. Aaaaand there's another one very soon, so I can't really make any promises as to when the next chapter will be out. Sorry!! (I also wrote part of this while I was without electricity so lmfao do feel free to point out any weird typos or unfinished sentences you see that I might have missed while editing.)
> 
> But thank you for reading! ♥


	7. calling me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, hello, it's been almost five months and I am seriously sorry for that omg. I really didn't want this update to take so long.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your patience. tl;dr: that hurricane sucked, I was without electricity for a couple months, I focused what writing time I had during those months on getting out my fics for jaydick week, then this chapter wouldn't behave enough to get finished lmfao. Buuuut with any luck, the final chapter will be up after a much shorter wait. So please just bear with me a little longer!

Jason's up by noon and crossing the silent safe house to the kitchen. He doesn't bother to wake Cass or Dick.

He can begin to guess what "plan" they're probably thinking of--intercept Batman or Shiva before they meet, keep Shiva from doing something they'll all regret, simple stuff. And maybe it'd be a good idea to _try_ to keep to it, maybe it'd really be for the best.

But because that's just his fucking life now, halfway through a sorely needed mug of coffee, his phone lights up with yet another email. And it's not from Talia.

It's from an address he doesn't recognize and one he's sure Talia wouldn't use at that, little more than a seemingly random set of letters and numbers. The email itself is short, one line, nothing more. But it's what's in that one line that has Jason freezing in the middle of the kitchen, phone clutched tightly in one hand and mug in the other.

A set of coordinates.

It's just a matter of seconds to find where they point to: a warehouse at the edge of town, like a real freaking cliché.

And it's just a matter of seconds to guess who it has to be from: dear old Sandra herself.

He pushes past his initial knee-jerk doubts, reminds himself that Talia _did_ confirm Shiva's on her way. And that few other people would ever be able to get this address anyway. If Shiva already got his old phone number from Talia, well...

It's hardly a stretch.

Jason sets down his mug on the counter and holds the phone in both hands, the coordinates open on the screen.

It paints a pretty damn clear message: _come see me here_. And he's... not sure what to do with it. The safe, logical thing to do would be to tell Dick and Cassandra about it, to hatch up that plan with them, much as he'd rather they stay the hell away from all of this.

But there's a louder voice in the back of his head, the same one that had been desperately coming up with possible plan after possible plan from the very second he realized Shiva wasn't after Cassandra, that's telling him to leave now. To grab his gear and hoof it to that warehouse.

It'd solve all his problems in one go, tie them all up with a neat little bow. He doubts Batman's found her yet if she's pulling this, and with Cass and Dick here...

He still doesn't want Cassandra involved in any of this. It was a split-second decision at the time, but the longer this all goes on, the surer he is in his decision. This is between him and Shiva. _He's_ the one she's looking for.

And Dick's got nothing to do with this. Whatever mixed feelings Jason may have, Dick doesn't need to have anything to do with this. And much as he'd rather not even think it, impossible as it seem to admit even to himself, he... _doesn't_ want the guy to get hurt.

It's not like he and Cass can't take care of themselves. But Cass is still reeling from her last encounter with Shiva. And as for Dick. He still doesn't know what's up with Dick, but he knows better than to think that Shiva wouldn't take advantage of his apparent exhaustion and of... Shit, whatever the fuck is up with him. He hasn't exactly shed light on that matter just yet. And Jason's not about to ask again anytime soon.

Hell, he's not feeling up to facing Dick after last night at all.

But that's just another thing to ignore till later. _At least_ till this whole thing with Shiva's over and done with. Preferably longer.

That does leave him actually having to deal with Shiva on her terms, not his own, and he can't say he's even remotely in the area of thinking that's a _good idea_. After all, he's not quite at her skill level just yet.

And he doesn't exactly have a good track record with mothers and warehouses, does he?

He sets the phone down and buries his face in his hands.

Shit, he could just leave a fucking note, right? A quick _gone off to probably get killed by Mom, don't follow me, love Jason_.

He snorts at the thought, and has to stop and lower his hands from his face when he realizes he just actually fucking laughed at that. Oh, he has to be losing it.

Yeah, leave a note, sure. And watch the both of them get their stupid asses killed.

It has to be him.

He rests his hands on the counter again, taking a deep breath.

So, this is it, isn't it? This is what he's been looking for ever since that first niggling suspicion took root in his brain, practically offered up to him on a silver platter. He'd be a fucking idiot to encourage her to take matters into her own hands even further.

And. Shit. _Fuck_ , he can't think about the last time he saw her.

He shuts his eyes tightly, gripping the edge of the counter. Did he ever even really have a choice?

Did anyone who ever claimed to be his parent ever give him a fucking _choice_?

He pushes off from the counter, snatching back the phone as he does so, and stalks off back to his bedroom, mug forgotten.

Fine, then. _Fine_. He's got himself a written invitation. Not the kind Alfred would necessarily approve of, but there's never been anything even remotely conventional about any of his families, has there? He can drop by, see to their unfinished business.

Jason's learned plenty over the years and suiting up quickly and silently was one of the early lessons, one he puts to good use now, along with the one about being _extra_ prepared. He can't afford to fuck this one up.

There's no point in bothering with the helmet when he's going to be seeing her, but he keeps the domino mask and straps on an extra knife. He's still not that confident in his ability to beat Shiva hand to hand if it comes to that, to put it lightly.

He still hasn't heard a peep from Cassandra or Dick by the time he's exiting the safe house and, frankly, he doesn't trust that silence for a second. Not with how those two keep finding him like a pair of freaking bloodhounds.

And maybe he hesitates at the window, maybe he takes a moment to turn back and look at the hallway leading to the rooms Dick and Cass are at.

And maybe he takes another moment to make a stupid fucking decision.

But he still takes the longer, winding path yet again, and hopes against freaking hope that this time he doesn't find the two of them at the end of it.

And maybe there's someone up there who only looks out for him when it comes to meeting mothers in isolated places. (Someone who wants him _dead_ , but what else is new.) Because he gets to the warehouse without incident, no bats or birds on the horizon.

He does survey the outside of the warehouse, the alleys surrounding it, but he doesn't find, and doesn't expect to find, much of anything. This is Shiva, after all.

And when he drops in through an open window on the ground floor, there she is.

She's waiting for him inside, casual as you please, leaning against the far wall like the villain in a kids' show.

Ha.

Jason swallows roughly. This is it, then. She ditches him without a word up in that miserable little cottage, leaves him to find out on his own.

And here she fucking is.

He didn't expect the sight of her to throw him so much.

She doesn't speak.

He probably should have taken that as the warning it was.

He opens his mouth to speak and she _moves_ , faster than she ever did during their training.

He blocks her first blow, feels the hit practically shoot up his arm, and faster than he can even think, finds himself on his back on the floor at her next blow.

What the fuck.

This is _nothing_ like how she was during training, he thinks as he rolls over to push himself to his feet. He knew she'd been taking it easy on him throughout their time together, but Christ. 

He'd had no idea just _how_ much she was holding back.

He misses a blow. She blocks another one. Then _he's_ the one with his arms up to block one, and another, and another.

Even Batman didn't have him on the defensive so quickly--though, shit, he doesn't want to think of how much _he_ may have pulled his punches, too. He's got to time every move _just_ right, like she's drawn him into some stupid fucking dance he never learned a single step to.

Then he misses a step. And _pain_ explodes up his right side.

He stumbles back, eyes wide, and just barely manages to catch the look in her eyes, before she goes straight for his right side, faster than he can keep up with.

The world tilts sideways and he's on the ground again, gasping for breath, desperately shoving back the nausea.

And. He can't get his feet under him again.

He sets a hand down flat on the ground and tries to prop himself up, but it's like a jolt of _lightning_ up his arm.

Jason chokes on a gasp and it's nothing. It's nothing, this is _nothing_. It's just an arm that might or might not be fucking broken, he's had worse, he fucking _died_ once.

But he's still on the ground, scrambling to get himself upright--pathetic, so fucking pathetic--when Shiva crouches before him.

The look she gives him is unlike any he's ever seen before from her, somewhere between pitying and disgusted.

"Get up," she says softly, no real inflection to her tone. The first words she's said to him since he got here.

He grits his teeth. "Lady," he grunts, getting his other arm under him just enough to push himself up to his knees. "I don't know what the hell you think you're gonna do, but you ain't..." He bites back a groan. "You ain't scaring me."

She doesn't even twitch as Jason kneels before her, struggling to catch his breath and holding his injured arm close to his torso.

"Good," she says at length, stone-faced. "I'd have to kill you if you were."

"You..." He shakes his head in disbelief. And stops when the motion makes the world spin around him. "You're telling me this isn't you trying to fuckin' kill me?!"

She _smiles_. Not a smirk, not that mocking half-smile of hers, not a laugh, but a _smile_.

It's terrifying.

"I have no interest in seeing you dead. And if I did, you already would be. Do you know why?" she asks sweetly.

She doesn't give him the chance to answer.

The smile melts away, her eyes flashing. "Because you are _weak_ , Jason. Your sister could hold her own against me. She _defeated_ me. But you." She grabs his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. "The months spent training you have made you merely passable against me, little more."

Jason doesn't try to pull away. He's stuck, staring straight into Shiva's eyes, the fingers at his jaw digging in hard enough to hurt.

"I had hoped," she goes on, when Jason doesn't. "That with those skills I and all your other teachers imparted on you, you would have proven yourself. You'd have rid yourself of those who hurt you and set them as an example to all others." She pulls her hand away, then sets it on his shoulder. "If you had succeeded, perhaps I would not be doing this now."

She shoves him, _hard_.

Jason has just enough presence of mind to hold his arm close, before his back's hitting the ground, knocking all the air out of him with a whoosh.

He doesn't know how long he lies there gasping for breath, eyes on the ceiling. But when he props himself up on the elbow of his good arm, he finds Shiva yards away, her eyes meeting his.

She looks disappointed.

"Perhaps I made a mistake," she muses, studying him. "Was it your father, after all? There never was anything particularly impressive about him. Or..." She taps a finger to her cheek and, slowly, says, "Was it your upbringing?"

Jason flinches.

"Surely there could have been someone better than that woman who raised you. Someone who could have made sure you weren't so... Ah, indecisive? If she wasn't even capable of keeping herself alive..."

Jason doesn't hear any more.

All he needs to hear is her _daring_ to speak about Catherine, in that tone, and next thing he knows, he's on his feet again. He aches all over, his right arm feels like it's on fire, but he's _on his feet_. And through the haze that's fallen over him, past the sound of his heartbeat--it's so loud, so loud, even Shiva has to hear it--he feels himself take a clumsy swing at Shiva, sees her dodge it easily.

And he's sure he doesn't imagine the smile, that same mocking half-smile, that crosses her face.

"Better!" she says cheerfully. "But still not quite good enough."

He sways on his feet.

 _Not the time._ He's got to keep moving.

"You don't get to fucking talk about her," he grits out. Through sheer freaking force of will, he turns and steps forward, closer to Shiva.

She doesn't move, only arches an eyebrow. "Oh? Is _she_ truly what inspired this little display, then?" She scoffs. "You can do better than that. You are _capable_ of being so much more. If you'd been raised by someone else..."

He sees red.

Her arm connects with his fist this time, in a block that sends him sprawling back.

But he keeps his feet under him this time, just barely, and, breathing heavily, yells, "What the hell do you _want_?"

"Did I not tell you already?" she calls out. "You are my son, Jason. How much would I have failed you if I let you go on like this?" The smile disappears off her face again. "I left you to your father. He failed. He left you to that woman. She failed. Then the Batman took you in. He. Failed. I am taking responsibility."

Jason laughs, startling himself with the sound. " _Responsibility_? Jesus fucking Christ, lady, this is your idea of freaking taking responsibility for your kid?" He shakes his head and he knows he's gaping stupidly at her, but he just can't stop himself. "Holy shit, is the crazy genetic?"

The worst fucking part of it is it makes a twisted kind of sense. It fits in perfectly with just when she decided to show her face. And, Jesus, it fits in perfectly with her crazy assassin thing.

But for god's sake, _what the fuck_.

She scoffs. "Is it so crazy to ask you to _finish_ what you've started?"

And the pain must be making him delirious, because he blurts out, "Like this? Yeah, a little bit!" and almost laughs again at the way her lips twist at his answer.

Oh, he's fucked, isn't he?

"What you gonna do? Grab Batman and the Joker and make me shoot one?" He does laugh again this time. It's surreal. It's all so fucking surreal. Maybe the crazy really is genetic. "You grab 'em yet?"

"Not today. With this poor showing, I'm not sure you _could_ do anything to either of them."

And _ouch_. That stings.

"I had hoped to have the Bat here today, perhaps after a... test, of sorts. But you failed, of course."

He snorts. "Sounds like the kind of test I'd be better off bombing. Do you even hear yourself?"

She ignores him. "If that man, that Joker, were here right now, could you honestly tell me you wouldn't deal with him yourself?"

He bares his teeth. "Maybe. Not so sure I'd do it just 'cause you said though."

A hint of an emotion Jason can't place steals across Shiva's face then, before she settles on a frown. "Then you will understand, someday, why I chose to right my mistakes the way I did." She nods, half at herself, and turns her full attention back on Jason.

He holds his injured arm a little closer to himself, holding himself as still as he can.

Her lip curls. "If you do not keep losing your nerve, that is. Tell me, did you tell the Batman about my being here?"

Jason stays silent, glaring at her. Yeah, way to fucking remind him.

She steps closer and he doesn't flinch away as she grabs his chin again. "Could you even fight me, even if you were stronger? If you cannot even bring yourself to let the Bat die, surely my being your birth mother would affect you as well."

With an effort, he pushes her questions out of his mind. He can't beat her in a fair fight, that much is more than evident. But if he can just _think_ of the right course of action, if he could just...

The sound of breaking glass is his only warning before Shiva's fingers slip from his face and she steps back, her face twisting. " _You_ ," she hisses out, turning to face the newcomers fully.

Huh. Fancy that.

"The cavalry's here," he mutters to himself and watches the room tilt sideways as Cassandra swoops right in between him and Shiva, Dick not far behind.

All right. He's more than a little woozy, to put it fucking lightly, but maybe he _didn't_ choose wrong.

He steadies himself just in time to see the action unfolding before him, filtering into his brain just a little too slowly.

Cassandra dodges a blow from Shiva, leaving her just out of reach. He blinks and Shiva's turned from Cassandra, her hand's on Dick's throat. Dick gasps and he's thrown backwards by Shiva, landing in an undignified sprawl.

Cassandra practically flies to his side, and finds Shiva looming over Dick in her way.

"Cassandra, this is who you have helping you?" she asks, disdainful. " _Him_?" She leans forward and her foot connects with his side hard enough to draw a loud groan out of him.

And Jason's heart stops, everything finally clicking in his mind.

Dick. Shit, he's not even supposed to be here. None of this fucking drama even has anything to do with him. Just what the hell is he even trying to prove?

"He's pathetic," she tells Cassandra, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "Pathetic enough he can't even take care of his own affairs." She looks down at him, where Dick is watching her warily and addresses him directly for the first time. "Why, from the way I hear it, you didn't even deal with that man in your city on your own. Blockbuster, wasn't he? Someone else had to pull the trigger for you."

Dick pushes himself up on his elbows and even at a distance, even with the mask, Jason can make out what must be a venomous glare aimed at Shiva.

"Pathetic, truly. You should be thanking that woman."

Dick lets out a strangled sound then--angry, but so _helplessly_ angry--drowning out whatever Shiva was about to say.

And Jason's heart beats once, hard, in his chest.

Shiva scoffs at it. "Cassandra," she repeats in a questioning tone. "Counting on or helping this man is a waste of your time and ability. He--" She gestures at Dick, frown growing deeper. "--is no longer any of my concern. Your brother is who we should be focusing on and--"

"No."

Slowly, she turns to face Cassandra. "No?"

" _No_. He's not going to do what you want. And I'm. Not going to help you."

"I see."

It's the only warning Jason gets before it's Shiva and Cass who are coming to blows. He's transfixed, for a moment, before a soft shuffling sound draws his attention.

 _Dick_.

He's sure he's got to be a damn pathetic sight himself, barely able to keep himself upright while he lets big sister deal with mom here. But Dick just sitting there...

Shit. They must make quite the pair.

"Pretty pathetic, huh?" he finds himself asking when he reaches Dick, who hasn't quite managed to drag himself back to his feet just yet.

He seems to only just barely register the fact Jason's speaking to him, transfixed as he is by Cass and Shiva.

He can't read the look Dick gives him then, gets a shake of the head for his trouble and through gritted teeth, "She's really the only one who can deal with her."

"If she's not playing around with you, yeah," he admits, though damn does it suck to have to say it.

Before he can second guess himself, Jason reaches out his uninjured arm. For a moment, Dick only glances between it and Jason's face, expression unreadable. Then, reluctantly, he reaches for and grab's Jason's hand, letting himself be pulled up.

He doesn't immediately step away or let go of his hand, looking up at Jason with that same expression on his face.

"You didn't have to do that."

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, whatever. Didn't really feel like letting you get stomped on by Shiva some more."

Dick's mouth twists, expression growing uncertain. "I don't understand you. Just what are you playing at here?"

"Jesus, Dickhead. Just because I helped you up?"

"Maybe because of how hard you've been avoiding me before this?!"

"And why do you think that is?"

"I _think_ \--"

"Enough then!" Shiva's voice rings throughout the warehouse, startling Jason out of the _conversation_.

Dick jumps, snatching his hand away.

He hadn't realized he'd still been holding on to it.

When he finally becomes aware of their surroundings again, Jason finds Shiva and Cassandra standing across from each other and has to take a moment to process the fact that Shiva actually looks out of breath.

"I'm disappointed, Cassandra," she murmurs. "I had thought you finally understood." She tosses her head, catching her breath. "But this isn't what I came here to do. Tell me, how far behind is the Bat?"

"Not very," Cass says simply.

And Jason just. Stops. His blood runs cold. "You know," he says, and he can't decide whether he wants to focus on Cass or the increasingly more sullen Dick. "You know warning him isn't the same as telling him exactly where we're going to be, right?"

"It was the... backup plan." Cassandra gives him what he thinks might be a sympathetic look. "Just in case. Nightwing didn't like it either."

"He's not here yet," Dick mutters.

"A pity that Jason couldn't prepare for our meeting with him," Shiva says dismissively, already moving.

Just like that, she's turning away, with one last look that might have passed for motherly disappointment on someone else's face. In another life.

Just like that. Like always.

He could leave it at that. He probably should leave it at that. But she's leaving.

 _Like fucking always_.

"Hey, _Mom_ ," he breathes, holding a hand to his shoulder as he takes a step forward. "You're leaving? Just like that? I thought I was too weak to stand up to you."

Shiva looks over her shoulder at him. "You're hiding behind your sister's skirts. But she will not always be near you."

"Yeah? I think I could take care of myself if that happened."

"I highly doubt that." Despite her words, she almost smiles at him. Sort of. It's still fucking terrifying. "But if you are so certain, I'll look forward to you trying again sometime. My work with _you_ isn't done, after all."

He rolls his eyes. Jesus. Pretty words or not, he's pretty damn sure he's going to have to be sleeping with one eye open for a while now.

She turns away.

He waits while Cass tries to pull Dick away, _something_ he can't quite name rising up in his chest when he spots the bruise beginning to bloom just above the neck of his costume, another high on his cheek.

He looks away.

Shit.

"Hey, Sandra," he calls out this time, before he even thinks about what he's doing, and ignores the way Cass tries to reach out to him to pull him back, too. "Before you go, what's with the scary inhuman assassin act anyway? Thought you said you were from Earth like the rest of us mortals. Hell, from Detroit."

That smirk this time, the way her lips curve, comes as more of a shock than it probably should have. He's sure he's seen that same damn expression on Cassandra. "Is this not who I truly am? You're not stupid, Jason," is all she says.

It's a telling answer, probably. If he were to give it some thought. But he's not sure he wants to unravel the freaking tangle of crazy that makes up Sandra Woosan.

So he sets it aside for the moment, pushes it under the metaphorical bed and pretends it's not there.

He's good.

He bares his teeth instead. "Yeah, I'm real damn smart. My mom raised me right."

"Cheeky," she says, eyebrows raised.

Then Cass _is_ pulling him away and he doesn't bother to look back at Shiva a third time.

"We should probably leave before Batman gets here," Dick says dully, once they're back out on the deserted street.

Jason can't say he's even surprised to hear the new voice behind them, followed by the soft sound of the newcomer deliberately makes as he lands on the asphalt. "No need."

Cassandra turns around to face him, but Jason doesn't miss the fact that Dick stays stock-still.

"Not now, old man," Jason says, voice coming out weary. Right now, he can't even find it in him to feel anything at Bruce's appearance. He'll probably pay for that later when it all hits him at once. "You're late anyway. Turns out she changed her mind about looking for you today anyway. We're outta here."

At a soft sound from Cassandra, Jason does reluctantly turn around then, only to find her frowning up at him (He doesn't, he can't, look at Bruce right now). "You shouldn't just leave. You need... You're hurt. You're both hurt."

Dick sighs and the smile he aims at Cassandra when he turns to face her as well is nowhere near convincing. "Not badly enough to need the Batcave. I think we can both take off."

Jason chews his lip, pushing back his initial reaction at that.

Weird. He'd have thought Dick would be all ready to stay here with Bruce. Not like he's looking that gift horse in the mouth just yet though.

"But--"

"Cass," Jason interrupts. "I'm fine. He'll be fine. Just run along with Batman and--"

Bruce, mercifully silent until then, chooses then to speak.

"Get those injuries looked at," he says, as if he has any damn right to tell them what to do. "Shiva and I have a long overdue conversation."

Jason does glance up at Bruce now, eyes widening in surprise. "You _what_? No," he blurts out before he can think better of it. Shit, he knew this was a possibility when he warned Bruce. "No, I'm pretty sure she's already left. She's real busy and all, you know?"

"So am I. I'm sure we'll find the time."

"And I'm sure we'll find the time to get patched up later. But you don't get to order me around anymore," he says firmly.

So, of course, Cassandra has to ruin it. "Please," she says, stepping back into his line of sight. "I know how..." She glances back at the warehouse, the _I know how hard she hits_ implied. "I'm your big sister. I'll make you."

He frowns, kind of wishing he could believe that was just a bluff. But she totally would, wouldn't she?

"I could..." Dick clears his throat. "He can get patched up at my place."

Bruce turns to Dick for the first time then. And Dick practically flinches, averting his gaze.

And that's. That's new.

That's. Off.

Cass obviously knows what's going on. She glances at Bruce, then at Dick, before saying, "Please go with him. And tomorrow... We can talk."

Jason's heart sinks. Yeah, there's another thing he's been avoiding. He's not going to fool himself into thinking she's talking about anything but their little "disagreement."

But Bruce, the asshole, is already walking away, Cass on his tail, and that's fine. It's fucking fine, he can deal with it later when he isn't stuck with Wonder Boy.

So he always, too, and he doesn't look back at Bruce. He can't.

The whole way though, Dick stays silent and, frankly, it's beginning to wear on Jason. The whole time, he finds himself practically willing Dick to speak, to laugh, to give him some more sanctimonious bullshit about how it's all okay and he missed him or whatever, just _anything_. Anything to break that dull silence.

But they reach Dick's apartment and he's still just as silent, just as distracted. And it's still the same by the time they're both bandaged up--and goddamn is Jason grateful that Dick's actually gotten pretty damn good at patching up even nastier injuries now. The splint's temporary, but at least it'll do for the night--and it sinks in that they're alone in Dick's apartment.

It doesn't quite feel real.

Jason shifts on his feet at the mouth of the hallway, about to just...

He doesn't know. Maybe say the hell with what Cass asked and just _leave_. He can get himself a safe house even Oracle can't find and maybe spend a whole fucking week or month holed up in there.

But, from where he's perched on his sofa, Dick finally breaks his silence.

"Jason," he says, tentative, and it instantly annoys Jason. "Thank you."

This isn't what he wanted to hear either. 

Jason raises an eyebrow. "Shouldn't that be my line? The two of you saved my sorry ass."

Dick's mouth twists. "That was all Cass. I didn't do that much better against Shiva." 

"Yeah, she got you down in no time," he says more than a little unkindly, the words spilling out before he can rein them in. So he still feels like hell, sue him. "All she had to do was bring up Bludhaven and you fucking folded again. What the hell's up with that?"

Dick purses his lips. "Didn't you ask me that already? You didn't like my answer."

Jason clenches his jaw. "Cause there's no fucking way you meant that, Golden Boy. You think I don't know what you're really like?"

Dick's expression hardens. That's more like it. "You really think you know what I'm like?"

"Damn right I do. You're Dick Grayson and, shit. You always find another way, you've always got some plan. You don't just..." He can't even get the word out. 

"Apparently, I don't. I thought _your mother_ made that clear enough."

Dick practically throws the words _your mother_ at him, an edge of venom to his tone, but Jason can't afford to let that distract him. Not right now. Jesus, not when it's such an obvious distraction.

_You're slipping, Dickie._

He crosses the room in quick strides, gingerly setting his hands on the arm of the sofa to get right in Dick's space. "Yeah, cut the crap, Dick. What did she mean?" he demands, frustration boiling over. "Tell me this time. What happened with Blockbuster?"

The startled silence that follows feels almost fragile to Jason, like _something_ will come crashing down around their heads if he so much as breathes too loudly.

Dick takes in a shaky breath and it's broken.

"Why," he asks, plaintive, wrapping his arms around himself. His voice drops to a whisper. "I already told you. You didn't want to hear it. What difference is it going to make if I tell you more?"

"I don't know," he answers honestly, looking down at his hands. That's a question he doesn't want to dwell on too much.

When he looks up again, he catches Dick looking up at him through his bangs, eyes searching.

He can't tell if he finds what he's looking for. But he straightens up again, letting his hands fall to his lap. And looks away from Jason again.

"Blockbuster's dead," Dick says tonelessly. "And it's my fault."

This time, Jason pushes back his initial reaction, pushes back the urge to shout, yell, run, _he doesn't know_. Instead, he clenches his jaw and forces out different words. " _You_? I don't fucking believe you. It's not your freaking fault."

"It _is_ ," Dick snaps and he turns to face him again now, turns that anger on Jason again and _shit_. That's still unsettling.

"How the fuck?"

"I. I let him die. I could have stopped it, but I didn't. I _chose_ not to."

Jason breathes in through his nose, tosses aside one response and throws out another. "How? How does freaking _Nightwing_ get in that kinda' situation?"

The look Dick shoots him then is almost pleading, desperate. But, in an even quieter voice than before, he goes on, "He knew _everything_ , Jason. My identity, where I lived, where I worked, my past. He was..." He squeezes his eyes shut. "He was going one by one, making sure I couldn't go anywhere without getting people hurt or killed and... I was at the end of my rope. And when Tarantula told me to let her kill him..." Dick shudders.

Jason freezes, his hands clenching hard enough on the fabric to hurt. Oh. Oh, he's beginning to get the idea here.

Oh.

"I wanted him to die," Dick whispers, all in a rush. "I was so... _tired_ , fucking exhausted, that just for a moment..." He takes in a sharp breath and raises his gaze to look at Jason, a panicked look in his eyes as he shakes his head helplessly. "For just a moment, I wanted him _gone_ , Jason. Then she killed him and..."

"Dick. That's really not the fucking same as killing him and you know it--"

"She killed him because _for just a moment_ ," Dick says loudly, speaking right over Jason. "I wanted him dead. I did it again, it was the same thing with the Joker. I wanted the Joker dead. So tell me, how am I any better than any of them? When I can barely even look at Bruce? How can you call me some _golden boy_ and--"

The floor drops out from under Jason.

"You did _what_?" he gasps, and it's only his injured arm that keeps him from grabbing Dick by the shoulders.

Dick looks up at him, uncomprehending for what feels like far too long. Then pales. "The... The Joker," he whispers. "I killed him."

Jason shakes his head. "No. No, no, no, he's alive. I fucking saw him alive. Bruce fucking chose to keep him alive. What do you fucking mean _you killed him_. You let someone else shoot him?"

Dick lets out a shaky breath. "No. Bruce was fast. He got to him before it was too late." He bites his lip. "But I killed him."

"How?"

"Jason, I don't--"

" _How?_ " Jason demands, and the sound is too loud, his voice is too loud, too fucking loud.

"I... I thought he'd killed Tim." Dick looks away. "Then he mentioned you. He _mocked_ you and how you died and that made me so... I was _so_ angry that by the time it was done I couldn't even remember having--"

"Why the hell would that make you so angry?" He tries to ignore the way his voice shakes.

Dick lets out a sound that might pass for a laugh if he were feeling generous. "Why wouldn't it make me angry? I cared about you, Jason. I _care_ about you, why wouldn't it make me angry?"

"Because you don't," Jason snaps. "We've fucking been over this, Dick."

"I can't believe you're trying to question my motivations for killing the Joker," Dick says weakly. "It's the _truth_ , I--"

"You fucking _don't_. You didn't kill the Joker for me."

And the Replacement. _And the Replacement,_ a small part of his mind whispers, but to hell with that.

And it's like something snaps.

Dick narrows his eyes. " _Don't_ ," he says through clenched teeth. "Don't think you have any idea. I did and I..." He breathes in sharply and when he looks up at Jason again now, there's a lost look in his eyes. "And, god, sometimes I don't even regret it."

There's something rising in Jason's chest, something he can't won't _can't_ examine.

He can't.

Fuck his life, Jason can't listen to this. He has to do _something_.

Not even stopping to think better of it, Jason leans in and his lips meeting Dick's is enough to take his breath away.

Dick only stiffens for a moment, before he practically melts against Jason.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Dick's lips against his aren't gentle, aren't quite what he imagined more nights than he cares to admit. But goddamn if they don't say _enough_ , if some part of him doesn't feel as if it's seamlessly continuing what Dick was trying to say, with the tug on Jason's bottom lip, with his freaking tongue.

Because he's apparently freaking shameless now, Jason leans right into the kiss, ignoring the way the arm of the couch presses into his middle, and has only a moment to wonder just what the hell he's doing before he's kissing back in earnest. He lets his hand rest on Dick's side, steadying himself with the touch. And he's clumsier at this than Dick is, he can tell right off the bat, but fuck it. He doesn't need to think about it.

For this, he doesn't need to, doesn't want to, think at all. His world narrows down to Dick's hand sliding down to his wrist, to their mouths moving together, to Dick almost immediately tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Shit, somewhere his younger self fucking died and went to heaven. (--He's kissing Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson tried to kill the Joker partially for him and--) A death his younger self might have actually embraced. And it's. Unreal. Surreal. _Something_ , Jesus.

What were they talking about again?

"You fucking," Dick gasps out, pulling just centimeters away, his breath hot on Jason's lips, " _Asshole_. Of course. I fucking cared. You bastard. When I found out..." Dick presses their foreheads together, squeezing his suspiciously shiny, shiny eyes shut tightly. "I _cared_."

Jason blinks, not quite able to process those words at first. His mouth drops open and he's sure he's going to say something, going to have some kind of answer for the absolutely _wrecked_ look on Dick's face, for the way his voice shakes, goes hoarse.

Nothing comes.

Dick's fingers tighten around Jason's wrist at the silence. "I always cared," he whispers. "More than even I thought I did."

"Since when do you care like _this_?" he asks dumbly.

He's not sure if Dick laughs or sobs but, "Sometime between seeing you alive and right now, I guess," he answers. "I don't know. You came back and I just wanted so badly to..."

And Jason can't listen to this anymore, he just fucking can't. Next thing he knows, he's on the sofa beside Dick and he tugs on Dick's collar, to close that tiny distance between them again, and then he _doesn't_ fucking think, can only focus on Dick's mouth on his, on the slide of their lips against each other. On the small sound Dick makes at the back of his throat when Jason's fingers find their way to his hair.

Jesus Christ, what is he _doing_? This couldn't possibly be a worse idea. Yeah, Dick says he cares. Big fucking whoop. It doesn't mean anything in the long run.

It can't mean anything.

A sharp nip to his bottom lip snaps him back to attention, Dick's tongue running soothingly over it right after. And. Fine. This? This he can do. He can push it away, he can throw out whatever fucking bullshit Dick keeps trying to sell him and just kiss him breathless, kiss him until he can't find the air, can't form the thoughts to _keep saying that_.

Maybe he'll even actually stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight scenes.... Fight scenes.... Never again...
> 
> But there is a, uh, lot to wrap up next chapter, yep. I mean. Dealing?? With feelings??? Instead of literally and figuratively running away???
> 
> Buuut you have... likely not seen the last of anyone just yet? We'll just see whether it ends there or if I need an epilogue lol. Aaaaaand because part of this chapter was, once again, written on my phone, please do feel free to point out any awful typos I might have missed
> 
> Thank you for reading and if you've stuck with this fic, thank you just so much! ♥


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